Unchained Melody
by music5692
Summary: The next generation. A new adversary, that will put the mortal and immortal worlds at odds. Sequel's sequel, co-authored.
1. Di Mortales!

**A/N: I wrote this chapter, but most of the characters are music5692's- I only own some of Joshua... too bad I can't keep him, since he belongs to Zoë, and Zoë mostly belongs to my lovely, talented co-writer. The basis belongs to Rick Riordan, we're only playing with his characters and adding some of hers and mine in. No copyright infringement is intended. If I can write that, you can review! Feel free to PM if you need background about Zoë's parents but it's better to read the prequels to this, which are located on music5692's account, just read them but hopefully Unchained Melody stands alone...**

* * *

Chapter One of Unchained Melody by Sister Grimm and music5692  
**Di Mortales!**

"_Di immortales_!" The girl shouted, brushing back gold-brown curls over blue eyes that now flashed green-gold like a cat's in anger. "Why do these things always happen to me?"

"Because," hissed Echidna, consort of Typhon, "you are a child of one daughter of Hades and Hestia, called 'Titan-Slayer', now immortal herself, and her lover, a son of Apollo, the only one to ever escape death. Why their children are mortal is completely beyond me. I protect my young."

Zoë Phaedra Eliot was normally pretty easygoing, even self-effacing, but this morning had been rushed enough, what with her brothers Azrael and Leon blowing up the yard experimenting with Greek fire (you'd think their ability to control and enlarge fire would have tipped them off that it wasn't a good idea). Hearing about her overbearing, legendary, all-powerful parents from an evil lady whose name had been used on an _anteater_ was not helping her mood.

"I happen to know that," hissed Zoë, daughter of Sholeh Promethus and Leo Eliot. "And I wouldn't call sending out your Chimera to be destroyed by random half-bloods protection, lady. Not that you're here to chat." Zoë quirked an eyebrow and drew her bow. Before Echdina could do more than put down her son, Stygian iron-edged arrows pierced the Chimera's hide. _Thanks for those archery lessons, Dad_. But it merely growled and sprung up on its hind legs, snapping for the girl's neck.

Zoë felt fast and strong, and the sun was high in the sky on this summer solstice. She drew her bow again, and called upon the flame that burned within the descendants of Hestia. The stygian iron burst into flames, and pierced the Chimera's heart.

It howled its death-throes, and Echidna howled in anger. Zoë drew her bow again, preparing the fire.

Just as the serpent nymph charged, Echidna was pushed over by another, far more easily dealt with monster. A hellhound growled.

"Oh, come freaking on," muttered Zoë. "Hellhounds should know better than to attack a granddaughter of Hades… _Exerchomai, kuon_!" The hellhound whimpered. Zoë kicked at it a little. "_Therion_!" It tried to lick at her hands. Zoë sighed. "Look, you really don't want to go home with me. I mean, my dad hates anything from the Underworld-," The girl made a frantic shooing motion with her hands. Mom had been clear on _no_ pets.

* * *

A couple minutes earlier, Joshua had been just minding his own business, trying to get to school on the last day of the year, that is June 21st. But his dad hadn't been able to drive him again. Then he'd missed the bus. His mom had been taking care of his baby sister. And now, his watch read eight-oh-five. Great. Pre-calc had started five minutes ago.

So he'd been forced to walk through Brooklyn, because he was the only person in New York City left alive without a Metro Card, and he was tired.

Then Joshua came upon a sight that he couldn't ignore.

The first thing he noticed was the girl. She had shining golden hair tugged back in a ponytail, tanned, athletic limbs, and intense blue eyes with hints of green and gold. But she was definitely not the kind of girl who would be content to hang on her date's arm.

Why, Joshua couldn't quite explain.

Maybe it was the lines of her face, the determined way she held her chin, the faint, haunting shadows that imperceptibly drew towards her. The flash and fire and glow of her body, a tigress in her prime.

Or maybe the way she was shooting flaming arrows at a lion-goat-dragon creature with wings, the elegance and practiced grace that would have put his old archery instructor to shame-

Wait a minute, Joshua's common sense said, snapping him out of his trance. What was that about the winged lion-goat-dragon? Joshua closed his eyes, assuring himself that the chimera was going to be gone in a minute. When he opened them, he saw it explode in a shower of golden dust.

That was when he noticed the nymph-snake lady. She snarled. That was when Joshua started looking for a way to help the poor girl who was being attacked by creatures right out of his drawings- _Aw, c'mon Joshua_, his common sense said, _you can't even beat your dad in basketball. How do you expect to help this girl? I have to try_, his never-look-before-you-leap side told him.

He looked around on the street, searching for some sort of cool weapon like in a book. Starbucks. Man passing by without seeing anything. Starbucks. Comic book shop-

Man passing by without seeing anything?

How could people not notice this? A girl was fighting for her life right there, and no one even stopped to look! Joshua could no more explain the anger churning in his gut than he could the girl or the dog the size of a tank she was kicking-

Wait a minute, someone was kicking a dog? A _dog_?

Joshua's brain immediately zeroed in on this. It didn't matter that this girl was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. It only mattered that she was kicking a dog that had done nothing to her. Animal abuse was one thing Joshua couldn't stand.

"Wait a minute!" he shouted, sprinting towards her.

The girl turned around, an expression of shock on her face that soon melted to irritation. "Look, I really can't talk right now, demigod."

"Demi-what?" he sputtered.

Zoë sighed. Not another undiscovered half-blood (or in her case, 3⁄4 blood...)

"Son of one of the Twelve Olympians, or another god?"

"The who? My parents are completely normal."

"They live together?"

He nodded.

"How long have they been married?"

"Twenty years!"

The girl frowned. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Joshua was confused.

"Have you ever been attacked?"

"Only by my three-year-old sister."

"Are you sure your parents are really your biological parents?"

"Yes!" he shouted. "Not that that's nice to ask!"

"All right. What does this mean?" And Zoë spouted off words in Ancient Greek, slowly and delicately, as if she were trying to calm herself down. In Joshua's opinion, though, it wasn't working, because she still seemed fit to be tied.

"Was that Chinese?"

Zoë sighed. "Do you trust me..."

"Joshua Sterling Dare."

The name tugged vaguely at Zoë's memory, but why she couldn't discern.

"Then give me your hand."

Mesmerized by her eyes, Joshua could only nod and hold out his hand.

Zoë took out her celestial bronze dagger and before Joshua could blink, she nicked his finger, no more painfully than you would do for a blood test.

Except nothing happened.

The knife went right through his finger. Zoë blinked, amazed. She did it again, a little harder, with the same result.

_Celestial bronze cannot hurt mortals_, Zoë dimly recalled, the thoughts reaching her brain very slowly. Stygian iron refused to bypass them, it just stopped halfway in-between. Weapons of the half-blood world wouldn't even hurt their skin...

Finally, Joshua recovered enough sense to gape. "What are you doing?"

"You're a mortal!" Zoë sputtered, having processed the information at last.

"What are you?" Joshua replied, indignant.

"No one. Nothing. You never saw me." Zoë snapped her fingers in his face, trying to manipulate the Mist like her adopted aunt Annabeth Jackson did, despite the fact that she'd never really been good at it...

"Yeah, I did!" He tugged on her arm. "What's going on?"

Zoë sighed. "I can't tell you, … what's your name again?"

"Joshua Sterling Dare," he replied automatically.

"If you want to do yourself a favor, you'll forget me. The Chimera. Go back to being a regular teenager. You have no place in this world you have just glimpsed the surface of."

Her eyes, blue and intense, bored into him. Joshua's instincts said she was telling the truth. Joshua's common sense said to obey her. Joshua's curiosity said he had to follow her. He looked up to glare at her defiantly, and Zoë held up a hand, a wall of fire coming between them. She ran and ran. The wall gave way quickly, but by then she was gone.

Okay, Joshua thought. Let's take time to process this. He sat down on the bench. Beautiful girl shows up fighting three different monsters. She stabs you and nothing happens. She immediately acts like you have the plague and makes huge flames appear between you. Was she in a cult? (The weird weapons did make a case for that.) Evil? Had the universe suddenly fallen apart? Or- even more disturbing- had the universe he'd been living in for the past sixteen years been a complete lie?

Well, Joshua figured, if he was going to trust that this all wasn't a crazy dream, the world he'd been living in had definitely been hiding something.

And he had a feeling that girl had a key to what that was.

Time to play stalker.

* * *

Zoë was panicking as she ran away from that mortal whose eyesight was way too good. Demigods had to remain secret. If they tried to explain themselves to a regular mortal, the government would have to open a new insane asylum. Of course, Joshua Sterling Dare was hardly regular.

She didn't know why, but he had something about him that made him seem out of the ordinary. It was probably just his Mist-sight, but it could be something else. A strange, rosy glow. Like he was god-marked. It clicked in Zoë's brain. That was why she'd been so sure she was a half-blood... most demigods tended to look a little special, a little too bright to careful vision, a little bit too out of the ordinary. Not always in a flattering way, it could be like her mother's ability to attract shadows- it depended on the parent. But since he wasn't a demigod, was he god-marked?

God-marked, Zoë remembered from her lessons, was when a specific deity or even demigod, on rare occasions, singled out a mortal for protection and guidance, or spent a lot of time around them. Her grandmother Michelle Eliot was god-marked from her time with Apollo and giving birth to a demigod. So was her Uncle Percy's mother from a whole summer with the sea god. The mortal Huntresses were god-marked so completely they glowed an obvious silver. Most of the time, with the exception of the Huntresses, it was so imperceptible to normal half-bloods and mortals that both only saw someone a little larger than life, a little too special. But Zoë technically wasn't a half-blood- she was a three-quarter blood and her parents were minor deities, the only ones to remain faithful to each other. She was mortal, but she, like her mother, could look at a god in his true form and not evaporate. The extra bit of god blood gave her clearer vision than say Uncle Percy, who had gone eight months without realizing his childhood friend Tyson was a Cyclops. (He'd never lived that one down.)

So how had Joshua Sterling Dare, a mortal who had no idea what demigods even were and had thought the giant hellhound was merely a giant Rottweiler, gotten himself so god-marked he had a shadow of rose around him? No one she'd met except Artemis' Huntresses had ever had anything more obvious than that. And usually the god-mark was a warning to other gods not to harm the mortal (not that that always worked). In male gods, it was often a way of marking their territory, like her cousin and best friend Phoebe had always put it.

But he seemed a little young to be dating any of the Olympians (unless her grandfather Apollo was hiding something important), particularly when he didn't even know who they were. The shock in his eyes had been sincere.

It was a question that deserved investigating. But probably by someone else, like her Aunt Kallisti, daughter of Eris. It wasn't as though she had much else to do, besides sell Play-Doh sculptures for millions of dollars on eBay. That had put her husband, Dr. di Angelo (AKA Uncle Nico), through medical school.

At the same time, she wanted to be the one to investigate this mortal. She wanted to keep his memory to herself. And Aunt Kallisti was hardly subtle.

Yes, stabbing someone with sacred weapons is so subtle, she told herself.

But the feeling remained, even as she raced up the steps to her school and begged a pass from the nice secretary.

Normal mortals were so lucky.

And Zoë Phaedra Eliot, daughter of Leo, the immortal consort of Sholeh Promethus, goddess of wildfire and civilization, had a sinking feeling on this fateful June 21st that Joshua Sterling Dare was neither normal nor lucky.

And that, along with the fear that she'd never escape being "daughter of", rather than her own person, made her actually terrified, even though no hellhound or Chimera had ever beaten her. It was never, ever going to be enough for her parents, she would never be good enough—

Just as she was thinking this, a boy ran straight into her. Her books scattered as her classmate numbly apologized.

"Here, let me get that for you- holy shit!" The boy realized, eyes traveling up those same tanned limbs, from the white Keds to the jean shorts and red tube top. Her bow was sticking out of her pack from its scattering. The books lay forgotten on the floor.

The two very different eyes met again, the same shock echoed in both irises.

It was Zoë who finally said it.

"Holy shit," she agreed, the faintest ironic smile twisting her Cupid's-bow lips.

* * *

A/N: Cookies to anyone who gets Joshua's mom, and those who have read Living From Dream to Dream might get why Joshua is god-marked, though that won't be revealed for quite a few chapters. "God-marked" is one of the very few things I own, and has next to no mythological basis, though it is based in Rick Riordan's Huntress glow. Soundtrack to the next chapter is "Walk This World" by Heather Nova, which I also don't own, this chapter doesn't really have a song on my playlist other than perhaps "Eyes on Fire" from the Twilight soundtrack (which, as you may know, I don't own), suggestions welcome. Zoë is seventeen and Joshua is sixteen, and do not call him Josh under any circumstances. Zoë's brothers and cousins, adoptive and biological, will be met soon. I promise Nico's kids with Kallisti are just as hot as he is in current canon. Peace and love, I know this author's note was long.

Must I say it? Review or I'll sic Zoë's brothers on you with their Greek fire!

BUT if you review and want a hug from them, or maybe a kiss, that can be arranged. Apollo, Chase Dylan Jackson, Astor Maguire (long story) are available as well, and so are Minerva Eliza Jackson and Calypso for the guys! Phoebe (full name Phoebe Bianca di Angelo) and Zoë are never going to hug you, my apologies. I've tried. Please specify because there are so many choices or just say "I can't choose" and we'll give you them all depending on gender or preference.


	2. Kids These Days

**Unchained Melody**

**Music's Note: Hey there everyone! Hopefully this chapter lives up to the amazing standard of the first chapter, which written by sistergrimm!**

**Sistergrimm's Note: Awesome as usual for my lovely partner. I just added a few things in this time. Enjoy and **_**review**_**!**

**Chapter 2**

**Kids These Days**

"What are you doing here?" Joshua asked, and then realized how rude he sounded. _God, what's my problem? _"I mean, do you go here?"

Zoë smiled and gestured at the wall to the right of her. "Well, yeah. I mean, this _is_ my locker. So it follows that yes, I go to school here," she replied, pointing at the nametag on the beat up, grey locker. Joshua leaned forward and squinted at the tag, trying to make out her name, but suddenly realized that he'd forgotten to put in contacts this morning, and had his glasses in his bag. He considered taking them out, but then decided that he really didn't want to be seen in his old, thick-framed black glasses by the world's most attractive girl. So he leaned forward a little more, aware that she was staring curiously at him.

"Are you dyslexic?" she asked, and Joshua blushed. _Great, now she thinks I can't read. Fantastic_.

"Uh, no," he replied, giving up on reading the miniscule name. "I have pretty bad eyesight. And you shouldn't make fun of dyslexic people." Joshua immediately cursed himself for saying that. _What am I doing? Am I trying to become her mother? She doesn't need a lecture. _The girl didn't respond, and he suddenly thought he'd blown any chance with her he had.

And then she laughed raucously, a little too loud for polite conversation, and a couple people passing by turned to look at them. "I _am_ dyslexic," Zoë said, grinning. "And since you obviously wanted to know my name so desperately, I'll just tell you. Its Zoë Eliot."

"Oh," Joshua replied, simultaneously taken aback and pleased with himself. He couldn't believe that she was still talking to him, let alone laughing as if he'd just told the most hilarious joke in the world. _This is a historic moment_, he told himself, because 1) _you, Joshua Sterling Dare, are talking to a hot girl at school, and 2) the conversation is entirely of her own volition. I'll admit that I did run into her, which started the discussion, but still, this is one for the books, because 3) I haven't screwed things up too badly yet and 4) she actually seems happy to be talking to you. I'll ignore the fact that I'm still not sure whether she's in a cult, has recently escaped from a mental institution, or jumped out of a fantasy book. Those are… technicalities._

Oftentimes, Joshua got overlooked, missed, if one weren't looking closely. He was generally quiet and soft-spoken, which wasn't helped much by his rather ordinary appearance: mousy brown hair, hazel eyes, teeth that weren't quite straight, a button nose. He didn't go to parties or play sports. Well, he had done some archery when he was younger, but when forced to choose between art and archery, it was an easy decision. His drawing came first.

"I've never seen you at school before, Zoë," Joshua said, trying to make conversation without really knowing what to say. Small talk wasn't his forte.

"We just moved here in February," she answered, leaning against the lockers. He did the same, so that he was close enough to feel her breath on his face, warm and sweet. "And my parents didn't make me start going here until May."

"Lucky," Joshua replied wistfully, a little mesmerized by the flicker surrounding her. It was a little like smoke, and disappeared if he looked too closely, but right now, under the soft light streaming in from the window, he could see a smoldering glow. It somehow reminded him of vanilla and fire and moonlight. Joshua shook his head to clear the heady, intoxicating vapor that seemed to be possessing him. "My parents make me come to school even if I'm sick. I've skipped a couple times, but y'know, no one ever even noticed, so that barely counts."

"Mmm," Zoë murmured. He was strangely easy to talk to, despite the thousand burning questions she wanted to ask him, most of them along the lines of 'how the Hades can you see through the Mist?' For a minute there, when she'd thought Joshua was dyslexic, Zoë really had believed he was a half-blood. It certainly would explain his uncanny vision, though there was still the matter of the sword. But even stranger than the conundrum Joshua presented, was what Zoë had really been thinking of in the split-second that she'd thought he was a demigod. All she could think was how she would have to explain that one of his parents was unfaithful, how she'd been afraid to hurt him, been afraid of something that hadn't even happened yet.

"Where did you live before this?" he asked.

"Oh, a bunch of places. We've moved around a lot, y'know, we had to "relocate," Dad called it, whenever people got suspicious—" Zoë stopped herself abruptly. _Holy Hades. I almost gave away everything. Shit, that was close_.

"Suspicious of what?" Joshua asked, his eyes narrowing. _Okay, the possibility that she's a member of a cult is becoming steadily more likely. Or maybe she's in the Mafia, like in the Sopranos_, Joshua thought, his mind racing.

"Uh, nothing. Anyway, I mostly grew up in this tiny house in upstate New York, but then we stayed with friends at Montauk for a while, and then we had this place in Kentucky, which was cool, since it had like fifty acres. This is the first time I've lived in a city."

"So how do you like it here?" Joshua asked, though he still wanted to know what people could possibly be suspicious of this girl for. _Well, besides fighting mythical beasts._

"Um, yeah. I like how many cars there are, how you can always find a place that's open—" The bell rang for class, and Zoë darted away, glad to have an excuse to end the conversation. Talking to this Joshua Sterling Dare was dangerous. Sooner or later, she was going to give it all away. Zoë could just tell.

"Anyway, I have to go to physics," she called, forcing herself not to look back, not to wave.

"Oh, yeah, okay!" Joshua yelled. "See you around?" No answer. Typical.

* * *

That entire day, Joshua found himself making excuses to try and see her. She'd said that she had physics, so he checked all the science rooms. She seemed athletic, so he regularly went to the gym just on the off chance that Zoë might be there. Finally at noontime, Joshua had all but given up. She had disappeared once again, and he guessed that he wouldn't see her again unless she wanted him to.

Disappointed, Joshua plopped down in the uncomfortable cafeteria chair and looked through his brown bag lunch. Turkey sandwich that had been slightly crushed when he shoved it in the bag, Fritos, and Gatorade; it all looked completely bland and unappetizing. Boring, just like his life. Well, like his life _was_ until this morning, until he had met a girl who fought mythical monsters and talked to him in the hallway and laughed too loud—

"Are you okay, Josh?" one of the girls across the table asked. Joshua wasn't sure of her name. Katherine, maybe, or Christine. Something like that. He wasn't actually friends with anyone he sat with, but hung out with them out of social necessity.

"Joshua," he replied firmly, suddenly annoyed with her. With the colorless people he sat with in school, with his own insipidity. Where was the originality? The thrill? Everything seemed so unimaginative, so flat, compared to her crooked smile. "I'm fine, just tired."

A flash of gold and Joshua was staring across the room at Zoë, who stared back curiously at him from her place in the cafeteria line, tousled hair falling across her face, and in the light from a window across the room, it seemed that it cast a brilliant, fiery crown about her head. Joshua felt a strange stirring when she smiled at him inquisitively, unconsciously, her eyes affirming an unspoken promise yet unfulfilled. Zoë sat down at an empty table and set her red backpack on the ground beside her.

Joshua stared for a moment before getting up. "Where are you going?" the girl across from him asked. Joshua didn't look at her.

"Uh, I forgot something," he replied vaguely, grabbing his paper bag lunch. "Er, I mean, I just saw someone. Later." Joshua crossed the cafeteria nervously, as if he was following a rare animal that could leap away at any moment.

Zoë seemed as if she was deliberately trying not to look at him, but when Joshua finally tripped over a chair, Zoë turned and met his eyes. A shock of blue, a rush of adrenalin, and he stumbled to his feet, blushing furiously, to take the empty seat next to her. Joshua heard a group of girls one table over laughing hysterically at him, and fought the urge to hide his face in the paper bag, or at the very least, flee the scene immediately.

Trying to sound nonchalant, Joshua spoke before Zoë could say anything. "Hey." His voice squeaked a little, and he coughed. Definitely not the appearance he had been going for.

"Hey," Zoë replied curiously, staring at his lunch bag as if she was trying to see its contents with X-Ray vision.

"So, um, how was physics?" he asked.

"What? Oh, it was fine, I guess. Boring as Hades, but what are you gonna do?" She shrugged, and Joshua was suddenly painfully aware of the lines of her body. _Just act cool; _he thought, _okay, she just said that physics was boring as Hades, so now you can say that Bio is a drag too—Wait._

"Did you just say 'Hades'?"

_Dammit_, Zoë thought. "Oh, yeah, I mean, I don't like to swear, so I say 'Hades' instead of H-E- double L." She spoke too quickly to be convincing.

"But you swore a bunch of times this morning," he replied, staring at her confusedly.

"I know, I've been trying to break the habit," Zoë snapped, angry with herself for almost giving everything away for the second time today. Angry, too, at this boy who kept finding her and digging at her identity, uncovering her secrets one by one. It wasn't really that she was afraid for herself, or even that Joshua would betray her family. They could always move again, or her mother could use her power as a goddess to make Joshua forget Zoë entirely.

But hers was a life that he didn't belong in. She existed among meddlesome gods and ancient beasts and a living culture that was supposed to be long dead. Joshua had a normal family and went to homeroom and packed a brown bag lunch.

It wasn't fair. Not for Zoë, not for him.

"Oh, sorry," Joshua replied, a little taken aback. He gulped and got up to go back to his table. She clearly didn't want to talk to him, and after years surviving grade school society, Joshua knew to take a hint.

"Wait, don't go," she asked, and inwardly cursed. He _should_ go. She should make him leave. "Please?"

"Um, okay," Joshua replied, looking at her, a little star struck by her commanding attitude.

Operating completely on impulse, she found herself asking him, "You said you skipped class a few times?"

A prick of hope squeezed his chest. "Yea?"

"Come with me. I'll show you something," she smiled.

Too mesmerized to care about her mood swings, Joshua smiled an only slightly dorky grin back. "Anything."

They left the cafeteria without another thought.

* * *

"No way!" said Phoebe Bianca di Angelo, stomping her foot within her black combat boots. "I'm not putting that away!"

Her father, Nicodemus di Angelo, hero of the Second Titan War and killer of Typhon, son of Hades, was really angry. "What possible use do you have for a black silk lace ball gown at_ Camp Half-Blood_?"

"Plenty!" she protested, snatching it back. "Zoë said it was really retro. It looks great on me. And there are the fireworks. And it cost seventy-five dollars! Aunt Sholeh was there when we picked it out!"

Phoebe was talking about her regular shopping trips with her cousin/best friend Zoë and Aunt Sholeh. Nico never approved of these shopping trips, as Phoebe tended to rack up a large bill and come back with piles of clothing she never wore.

Dad muttered something like, "shop us out of house and home, that irrational pyromaniac."

"Unlikely! You're a doctor, and Mom sells Play-Doh for millions of dollars! And Aunt Sholeh is _not_ a pyromaniac!"

The argument grew into a shouting match until Kallisti Darcy-di Angelo stepped in.

"What is it this time?" asked the daughter of Eris in a long-suffering manner.

"He won't let me bring this gorgeous dress to camp!" whined Phoebe.

"She wants to bring that ridiculously expensive article of clothing to a summer camp!" whined Nico.

Kallisti pursed her lips, rubbing her temples in frustration. "Dead Boy, let her bring the dress. She'll never wear it otherwise. Phoebe, apologize to your father."

Phoebe sighed in a manner that echoed her mother's. "I'm sorry, Dad," she said, with only a trace of regret. Her father gave her an awkward but well-meaning hug.

"Don't let the boys stare at you too much," said Nico.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "No chance of that."

Her mother's eyes softened as she joined the hug. "Want some help packing?"

Phoebe shook her head to hide the sudden swell of emotion at the thought of boys. _Not now_. "Nah, I'm good. But thanks, Mom."

Her parents left the room, and once they were far enough away, Phoebe kicked the wall hard enough to dent it.

* * *

A succession of rolling, lonely notes trickled from the strings of the guitar, the cadence seemingly independent from the musician's fingers. From her seat on the grass far from the makeshift stage, Zoë could hardly see the guitarist through the throngs of people, and it seemed that the song's slow, sweeping phrases weren't the performer's creation at all; that this music was an entity that had always existed, always would exist, even when there should there be no one left to play it.

She closed her eyes and smiled, falling back on the grass of Central Park. Zoë had always loved music. Home was always full of it, no matter where her family happened to be living at the time, regardless of the fact that Zoë had no propensity whatsoever to actually _make_ music.

The song ended, and Joshua clapped along with the rest of the crowd, glancing at the girl lying on the grass next to him. Zoë and he had sneaked out of school and ran to Central Park, where a peace rally had set up camp. Joshua wasn't a fan of the huge crowds and yelling people, but there were two advantages. One was that the protesters had organized a concert, free to the public, which continued without stop for four days, with local bands and up-and-coming musicians.

The second advantage took the form of the girl lying next to him, her loose blonde curls nearly touching his leg, her nose wrinkled with mirth and covered in freckles, her wonderfully tight shirt… _Not thinking about that. Stopping right there_, he mentally commanded.

"So how'd you know about the concert?" Joshua asked her, raising his voice to be heard over the new band, a quartet with a lead singer, two guitars, and a drummer. He couldn't quite make out the name, blazoned on the drum set, something like "You, Me, and everybody"… Never mind. It was too far away to see properly.

"I saw a poster for it," Zoë replied, still smiling. She could practically feel Joshua's questioning stare.

"Where?" he asked. He wanted to know so much more about her, so much more than their conversation in the past day had afforded. And still she insisted on mystery. It was damnably frustrating.

"On my street. Isn't this great?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, just really fabulous," she continued, stretching and sitting back up. Joshua was now looking at the stage, his hair mussed by the wind. Zoë laughed, carefree and relaxed for the first time in months. _I should be freaking out right now_, she thought, _if mom finds out I skipped school, she'll flip. But I'm just not going to think about that right now. _

Zoë pinned a troublesome lock of hair back in a bright red clip, and Joshua looked over. "What's with you and the color red?" he asked.

"Oh, you noticed," she replied, grinning.

"Well, it's a little hard to miss," he answered, happy just to have her smile. "Red backpack, red hair clip, red shirt, red notebook."

"It's my favorite color. I mean, it's the only _real _color. The only one that just screams 'Here I am, world!" in big, bold, capital letters," Zoë quipped.

"What about green? Or blue? I mean, you've got the ocean and sky and… other stuff that's blue. Seems like a pretty good color to me," Joshua replied.

"No, see, blue is a happy color. Red is _alive_."

Joshua nodded and cautiously moved closer. "You have a point."

"I usually do," Zoë joked.

"_They used to say I was a cautious man, but its been weeks since I looked both ways or gave a damn_," came the singer's voice, quick and exuberant.

"Are your parents going to be mad if they figure out you skipped?" she asked, suddenly changing the conversation entirely. Zoë checked her watch; it was three oh five, and she suddenly realized that they'd been here two hours, just talking and listening to the music.

"Maybe. I don't really care, to tell the truth."

"Same here."

"Are your parents going to be mad?" Joshua asked in turn, tracing circles in the grass. He smiled when he noticed that Zoë was uprooting the grass before her, absentmindedly ripping it out by the roots.

"Yeah. Well, my dad might not care. My mom definitely would, though. Its weird though, since neither of them even finished high school. But they still make _me_ go," she replied, trying not to sound as if she was complaining.

"What do they do?" Joshua asked before he could stop himself. Asking questions was all he seemed to be able to do today. It was if meeting Zoë, who was the physical manifestation of an enigma, had triggered some instinct within in him to share everything, and want everything to be shared. He'd already told her his life story; the mother who was the head of an environmental company, the civil lawyer father, his love of drawing cartoons, still lifes, portraits, watercolors, the love of art he'd inherited from his mom. "For a living, I mean."

"Dad's a musician; composer, singer, you name it. Mom does stuff in finance, I don't really know what, to tell the truth."

"Got any siblings?"

"Two little brothers. They're terrors, I swear. There's Azrael, who's fourteen, and Leon, who's thirteen. Azrael is the brooding teenage one, and Leon is the tag along, to summarize them in very few words."

"Azrael?" Joshua asked, eyes wide. He'd heard the name before, but it was always attributed to the Angel of Death. _Hell of a name for your kid_, he thought wonderingly, _and all the more proof to support my fantasy character theory._

"Yup. My parents like weird names," she replied carelessly, pulling out another hunk of grass from the ground, scattering dirt across her knees.

"Yours is pretty normal."

"Or so you would think," she returned. "Middle one is 'Phaedra.'"

"That's pretty, though," Joshua blurted out, and blushed furiously.

"Thanks," Zoë replied with a confused smile. The way his hair stood at such odd angles, his obvious embarrassment and quiet jokes and quirky smile; it was kind of endearing. "A normal name would've been nice, though. Emily, maybe, or Anna. Something just _normal_. Thanks, Mom and Dad." Her voice was suddenly tinged with bitterness, barely shaded with regret and uncertainty.

"Don't you like your parents?" Joshua asked automatically. Zoë looked away, down at her worn Keds, and when she didn't respond, he mentally berated himself.

"I do," she replied quietly. "But… they're different. And I guess you could say they're sort of famous."

"Maybe I've heard of them?" Joshua asked, half wanting to help her and half wanting to figure out this mystery girl.

"Uh, probably not," she returned defensively.

"They can't be very famous, then," he answered pensively.

"Well, they are," Zoë replied quietly, almost inaudibly, looking away.

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," he apologized swiftly. "You probably didn't want to talk about it—,"

"That's okay," she forgave him automatically, trustingly, like a child, waving her hand to demonstrate that it was okay. Her skin brushed his. A sudden warmth spread through him like a liquor seeping through his veins, blurring his senses, and muddling his mind. Zoë looked up at him quickly, her movements equally lethargic, the planes of her body melted together.

"Sorry," Joshua apologized quickly and swore in the privacy of his mind.

Zoë laughed joyously, the noise melodic and challenging. "Stop apologizing!" The band started playing a new song, the music somehow reflected in the crinkling of her nose, every curve of her body showing impish glee, and her laughing mouth, as one of a nymph laughing mischievously among toadstools and daisies.

"Let's dance!" she called, and spontaneously grabbed Joshua's hand, dragging him down into the most chaotic, bouncing and loudest section of the crowd.

"_You've got your problems and I've got mine, let's learn to cope one drink at a time. You've got your problems, let's make you mine."_

* * *

"ZOË!" Phoebe bellowed through the apartment as she walked in, not having bothered to knock. The spare key was always hidden in the wreath of fake yellow flowers hanging on the front door, and she generally walked in anytime she wanted. Ringing a doorbell or checking to see if the Eliot's were home was the exception, rather than the rule, for Phoebe di Angelo. "Zoë! Get your butt out here!"

Suddenly a man with tan skin and messy blond hair appeared, holding a coffee mug in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. The resemblance to his daughter was striking; they had the same long, thin face, artist's hands, and golden body. Although Leo made sure to change his appearance slightly enough that he wouldn't still look seventeen, his touch of vanity ensured that he always looked much younger than he actually was. "Not home, Phoebe," Leo replied distractedly, not taking her eyes off the sheet music he held.

"School ended forty five minutes ago," the girl huffed, and plopped herself down on a sofa. It was beaten up and ridiculously comfortable, like everything in the Eliot household. Everywhere they lived, the family managed to make seem so homey. Unlike her own house, Phoebe thought, so spick-and-span it's practically antiseptic. Gods, sometimes she wished she could live here, although she spent enough time there to basically do so.

Not that the Eliots were a perfect family. Far from it. What with things spontaneously combusting all the time, battle weapons lying in dangerous places, kids running amok, and the less than appetizing TV dinners. Neither Sholeh nor Leo was much of a cook.

"D'you know where Zoë is?" Phoebe demanded, straightening out her short black skirt and scuffing her heavy boots against the wooden floor.

"It's Wednesday. Soccer, right?"

"It's Friday. And we don't have soccer on Fridays."

"She'll turn up," Leo replied. _Zoë's a good kid_.

"Well, yeah, but the question is when. Which is really quite crucial when you consider the fact that we leave in _two days_." With school over, it was time for Zoë and Phoebe's favorite time of the year: summer, when they went to Camp Half Blood. It was an escape from monster attacks, from the mortal world they were rudely shoved out of. The place they had all their adventures, their crazy antics, their unbelievable pranks and exhilarating freedom.

It was finally that time once again, and where was Zoë? _Nowhere to be found_, Phoebe inwardly grumbled.

"That's two whole days. What do you two possibly have to do that is so urgent and important you need two whole days to do it?"

"Well," Phoebe replied with glee, and Leo immediately regretted asking. He sighed, smiling softly. "We need to find duct tape, glow sticks, a shower curtain, iPod speakers, a Scottish kilt, Ramen, a poofy pink ball gown, and a pair of bondage pants. Oh, and a tie."

Leo pulled the tie, already undone, off his neck and tossed it to her. "Here's a tie," said the immortal. "I'm not even asking about the rest."

"Thanks," Phoebe replied, shaking her head at the tie's pattern of palm trees and margaritas. "Nice tie, by the way. Very classy."

"That's me. Anyway, maybe Sholeh knows. Ask her."

"Where is she?"

"Work."

"Well, that's awfully helpful," Phoebe replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Never mind." And with that, the girl flounced off the sofa to search the apartment.

In the boys' room, Phoebe found two unmade beds, a wall covered with daggers, huge windows with the curtains closed to shut out all light, a floor entirely hidden underneath manga books, colored paper, and glue, and two boys crouched over a game board.

"Hey," she called, taking care not to step on anything, which was an almost impossible task. "Hey you two, d'you know where Zoë is?"

"Nope," Azrael answered, annoyed. He really hated being disturbed. "Haven't seen her since this morning."

"Me either," Leon added pleasantly, looking up at Phoebe, smiling. She grinned at the thirteen-year-old, who had Elmer's glue and black glitter pasted all over his pale face and sable hair. Leon was skinnier, smaller, and shyer than his two siblings, but also was less prone to mood swings and setting the nearest object on fire. He was also, however, the perennial tag-along little kid, who always wanted to follow her and Zoë around, or Azrael. It had been absolute torment for them when they had lived in Kentucky, far away from the Jacksons, because then Leon, lacking his two best friends, Chase and Minerva, became so annoying that Phoebe had once locked him in a closet.

"Us either!" two voices echoed from the corner. Phoebe squinted into the darkness to notice Chase and Minerva sitting side by side, pointing at a picture in National Geographic magazine. The two fourteen-year-old fraternal twin children of Percy and Annabeth were frequent visitors at the Eliot house, like Phoebe herself.

Chase, the couple's son, looked remarkably like Percy; the same untamable black hair, sloppy grin, almond-shaped eyes. But he had Annabeth's compassionate, merry gray- blue eyes, and they had the same fierce steely gray color hers got when angry. And Minerva looked for the most part like her mother, with honey-blonde hair and fine features, but she had somehow inherited Percy's green, swirling irises, which reflected the ocean so perfectly. It was as if they were simply inversions of their parents' appearances. Both twins were tanned from long hours spent on the beaches of Montauk.

"What are you doing?" Phoebe asked, becoming increasingly frustrated with her best friend's mysterious absence.

"Playing Monopoly: The Demigod Version," Azrael answered dispassionately, moving his piece forward one space.

"There is no demigod version of Monopoly," she retorted.

"There is now," the boy shot back furiously. "We just made it."

"Well, what's the difference between this and normal Monopoly?" Phoebe asked, sitting down on Leon's messy bed and wrapping the navy blanket around herself.

"If you land on Chance, you're killed by a manticore. If you land on Pacific Avenue, Kampe kills you. If you land on any of the Railroad spaces, the Minotaur kills you. St. James Place means that the chimera kills you. But if you land on Go, you get a quest."

"Ah," Phoebe sighed. "That's a pretty realistic Monopoly game."

"That's the point."

"I'll help you find Zoë," Minerva said helpfully, crossing the room. The two girls proceeded to walk around the rest of the apartment screaming Zoë's name at the top of their lungs, until Leo told them to stop, or else he would tell Sholeh about it. They immediately stopped and decided to raid the kitchen for cookies instead.

* * *

"Shit. Stupid telekhines," Azrael swore upon landing on a space that had 'Telekhines' scribbled over 'Luxury Tax.'

"Ha, you're dead," Chase crowed.

"This game sucks," pronounced Azrael, standing up and kicking the game board disgustedly. He threw himself facedown on the bed.

"Hey!" Chase protested.

"Whatever. I want to go to Camp," Azrael moaned.

"You mean you want to see Tonia," the son of Percy and Annabeth teased.

"Ooh, Tonia," Leon echoed eagerly.

"Shut up, both of you. Tonia's a friend." Tonia Argounovna was a daughter of Demeter, who Azrael had been best friends with since the first day he went to Camp. Soft-spoken, calm, bashful, without any propensity for fighting at all, slow to anger, she was Azrael's exact opposite. Few people had even heard her speak because she was so shy. This wasn't helped by the fact that she had a thick Russian accent that she wished she could rid herself of.

"Sure," Chase scoffed. They were practically family, and he knew that he could afford to laugh at Azrael. The older boy would rage and fume, but he wouldn't do anything about it.

"What about you, kid?" Azrael grumbled through the mattress. "Any hot girl I should know about?"

"Not really," Chase shot back. "I'm settling for variety."

"Leon? C'mon, there has to be _someone_—"

"No," Leon replied quickly, blushing uncontrollably.

"Don't tell me you forgot, Azrael, about Leon and _Minerva_," Chase joked, punching Leon's shoulder lightly. The smaller boy looked mortified and rubbed his arm.

"Ah. Well she's got a certain something, I guess—" Azrael commented suggestively.

"Dude, that's my sister. Shut up."

"Yeah really," Leon added nervously, hearing the girls approach, armed with chocolate chip cookies.

"What, are you afraid I'm going to give away your secret _lurve_ for Min—"

Leon immediately started laughing awkwardly to cut his older brother off. "Heh heh… so, how are those cookies?"

"Pretty awesome," Minerva replied, grinning at him. "They're not blue, but what the heck, right?"

"What happened to finding Zoë?" Azrael asked lazily from the bed.

"We're gonna wait until Aunt Sholeh comes home. Then, if she's not home by _then_," Phoebe made a face, "we're probably going to have to cover for her."

"What if something bad's happened to her?" Leon asked worriedly.

"First off, I think your parents would know if something really bad had happened," Phoebe explained through a mouthful of cookie, "Second, I'm sure Zoë's fine, even if she _is_ missing a major packing session."

"Oh, shoot, we forgot the milk," Minerva commented absently, sitting down next to Leon.

"I'll get it!" he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and sprinting to the kitchen.

"Kids these days," Azrael noted sarcastically.

* * *

_Sneak Peek of Next Chapter:_

"_Rachel Elizabeth and Jonathan Sterling Dare."  
Percy and Annabeth's bugged out._

**A/N:** **When Zoë and Joshua are at the free concert (yeah, I don't know why there would be a concert at a peace rally, but anyway) the band playing is 'You, Me, and Everyone We Know' and the lyrics are from their songs, 'I Can Get Back Up Now,' and 'Could It Be Sunstroke?' The album is free on their website if you're interested… But this isn't an advertisement, is it? Moving on.**

**Ooh, I would like to challenge someone to come up with a name for Zoë and Joshua. Just because they have difficult names to type out in reviews and such… and Percabeth and Sheo work so well! **


	3. Punch Drunk Love

**AN from music: Really sorry about how long this chapter took, faithful readers. Hopefully it makes up for the wait! Oh, and we decided on a winner for the Zoë/ Joshua name contest - the winner is Zoshë, submitted by CloudyAlore! Isn't that cute? The popular winner probably would have been Zoshua, but this is not really a democracy, sorry. :P The music for this chapter is 'Such Great Heights' by Iron & Wine, up until the first page break, and after that is 'Sugar, We're Going Down' by Fall Out Boy.  
**

* * *

Chapter 3

Punch- Drunk Love

The light danced. It flew down from the moon high above them, flickering across unknown faces, played with their lonely silhouettes, and twirled along to alight on the slowly revolving couple, dancing in awkward, close turns. Zoë gazed, entranced, at the rays tangled in Joshua's hair, the strands of hazy luminescence as independent and defined and real as his hand on the small of her back. The moonlight uncovered the dusky warmth in the boy's eyes as he watched her, and Zoë blushed, knowing that he was watching. The taste of his lips mingled with the sweet, promising smell of summer as she inhaled slowly, the world swirling in front of her like a punch-drunk kaleidoscope.

"You're a good dancer," she heard him say shyly, the first they'd spoken in hours. Zoë didn't know what time it was now, but judging by the darkness that had fallen and the fact that almost the entire crowd had disappeared, leaving a few weary activists and a melancholy singer, she guessed that it was maybe eight thirty. She prayed to Zeus that it wasn't any later than that.

"Thanks," Zoë mumbled back, finding it hard to convince her mouth to speak, as it fumbled over the words tiredly. She just wanted to lean against his warm, embracing body and sleep for a thousand years.

"Somehow I wouldn't have imagined you as a dancer," Joshua mused softly.

"Why?"

"I dunno."

"I'm not feminine enough?" Zoë joked, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mischief.

"What?" Joshua started. "No, not at all. You're anything but not feminine. I mean… wait, you are feminine, is what I mean. Not that you're overly girly or anyth—"

She put a finger to his frantic lips and made a shushing noise. "Kidding. But I'm really not all that great of a dancer. I think my skills just looked better in comparison to you," she replied with a smile.

"It's possible," he admitted, smiling back.

Their dancing had started out reckless, Zoë jumping to the music and Joshua swaying a little from side to side, but as day grew into night, the dynamic, boundless music had been replaced by slow songs; the bane of any dorky, friendless teen's existence. At first the two of them had just stood there, talking above the music's gentle lull. And then beneath a starless sky, Joshua had timidly asked her to dance and she'd placed her hands as elegantly as she could around his neck and the awkward world they'd known was left behind for one of warm, indulgent happiness.

"I'm glad I met you," she said, without a trace of hesitation.

"Me too," the boy replied, grinning back at her. "I mean, glad that I met you. Not glad that I met me. Since that's not really possible…"

Zoë smiled, her nose almost touching Joshua's, her face flushed and warm. _This is the best,_ the demigod thought lazily, _the absolute best. Just being here with Joshua… did I really meet him just this morning? He was pissed because I kicked a hellhound. A hellhound, imagine. I can't wait to tell Phoebe._ Suddenly the girl remembered something. She vaguely recalled making a promise to Phoebe, but this new, relaxed world of Joshua's kept pulling the memory from her mind.

"Even though I'm not feminine enough for you?" she asked, another silly grin across her face.

"Zoë—" Joshua began, trying to apologize once more.

"Hush. Anyway, I for one," she whispered, "think this is the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Even though my parents are probably freaking out right now, and its drizzling, and… and even though we're so different."

She wanted to tell him. Wanted it so, so badly. But for one thing, it was forbidden. Strictly. And for another, any person in their right mind would run screaming away if told that their new girlfriend was a direct descendant of the mythical Greek gods.

"What do you mean by 'different'?" he asked desperately. Zoë hated her secret even more when he grasped her hand as if to pry the mystery from it.

"Never you mind," she replied sadly, with a wistful, smiling, glance at Joshua. "But anyway, I was meaning to tell you that I'm not going to be around here for much longer."

"Why?" he protested angrily, his voice raising.

"Don't freak out, it's just for camp. I'm leaving in two days with my brothers and cousin, Phoebe. Its just upstate. We all go every summer; my parents went there too. They met there, actually."

"Oh," he sighed, visibly relieved. "But how long will you be gone for?"

"Three months, something like that," Zoë replied with a frown. "It depends on what Chiron—I mean, the camp organizer decides."

"Chiron?" Joshua asked. His questioning, bashful smile created a quiet aching in Zoë's chest. She'd always wanted to reveal her terrible secret one day. Even at a young age, she had been more aware of that than her siblings and best friend. She'd always realized, to some extent, that the people she passed on the street, the kids in her classes, the welcoming neighbors could never, ever, know about her. Being a demigod was a huge part of her identity, and Zoë couldn't ignore the fact that not a single mortal would ever truly know her.

She didn't know why, but she was attracted to mortals. To the way they went about their business, blissfully unaware of the impending dangers that walked among them. They didn't know that the guard dog standing outside a business was in fact a hellhound. That the strange lady with a pet Chihuahua was in fact, Echidna. That the two military officers walking down the street were skeletons reanimated by Hades. That the unusually high waves today were because Poseidon was angry with his brothers. That their entire race had come so close to being utterly obliterated by Kronos.

She liked mortals, only a little patronizingly, for their ignorance. But she wanted them to be knowledgeable about one thing: her.

"Zoë?" Joshua asked. The girl realized that she still hadn't answered. "Oh, uh, the camp director's name is Mr. D. And the organizer is Mr. Brunner. But, uh, we call him Chiron. As, like, a nickname."

"Mind if I ask why?" he asked, clearly confused and a little intrigued. "That's not exactly your run-of-the-mill nickname."

"Oh, uh…" Zoë trailed off, before realizing that she was now stuttering and blushing as badly as Joshua usually did. "Because in Greek mythology, Chiron the centaur trained demigods to be heroes, and Mr. Brunner trains us to be… uh, people of good character?" She ended on a questioning note, grasping for straws. Joshua just stared at her.

"Whatever you say," he finally replied.

Suddenly it hit Zoë: she was supposed to pack with Phoebe today. "Aw crap," she muttered, kneading her forehead. "What time is it?"

Joshua glanced at a battered wristwatch. "Uh, eleven forty-seven."

"Eleven forty-seven?" Zoë shrieked, her entire body stiffening with horror. A few people around them looked over, angry at the sudden shrill outburst. "_Di immortales_, this cannot be happening."

"What is it? Are you way past your curfew? What's wrong?" Joshua took a step back, frightened at her sudden change of expression.

"No one knows where I am, I was supposed to pack with Phoebe today, and yeah, I'm past curfew," she replied, her voice rising and becoming faster as she panicked. "And my mom will be home by now and gods only know how she's reacting. But it sure as Hades won't be pretty."

The girl sat down hard on the ground, and Joshua stopped himself from asking about the 'gods' or 'Hades.' "Shit… this is so not good. I don't have a car. Or a cell phone, so we can't call anyone to pick us up."

"I can walk you home," Joshua offered kindly, sitting down in the wet grass beside her. He blushed a little in the shadowy light and added, "Plus I'd kinda like to meet your family."

Zoë looked over at him, surprised. She hadn't told him about her family being "mortality-challenged," but she had willingly described all their eccentricities and personalities. _And he still wants to meet them?_ She shook her head, mentally smiling.

"How will you get home after that then?" Zoë asked.

"I'll walk."

"Oh no, you can't do that," she stated firmly.

"Why not? I've walked around the city alone at night since I was, like, eleven. I'll be fine—"

"No, you won't. Not after spending a whole day with me _and_ meeting my family, you wouldn't be." Again, Zoë felt the frustration of not being able to tell Joshua the exact reason for her precautions. The boy was already god-marked; after hours spent in the very close company of a demigod, and after being exposed to the presence of two deities, he might as well have hung a neon sign over his head saying, 'Eat Me!' Joshua would be a sitting duck for every hungry monster in New York.

"Why? I still don't get it, Zoë. Why can't you tell me?" The girl just stared at the dewy, glistening grass. "Look, if you're involved in anything illegal, or organized crime or anything, I won't tell. Swear to God I wouldn't tell."

"It's not anything like that," she muttered, ripping out the grass. Joshua had noticed it was a nervous habit of hers. "It just, um, I really can't tell you. But anyway, I know what we'll have to do. You're coming home with me, and then you can call your parents from the home phone. My house is only like fifteen blocks from here." Zoë had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to get Hades from her parents when she got home. Hopefully Phoebe had covered for her, but she was in deep trouble. She only wanted to keep Joshua from the full force of it.

"Let's go," she decided, standing up, and pulling Joshua up with her. "Hey Joshua, just make sure I'm cremated, okay? I'm really terrified of being buried."

"What?" he asked, his brown eyes wide from confusion and shock. Zoë ruffled his messy brown hair affectionately, and straightened out a curl.

"I'm as good as dead," she replied with a melodramatic sigh. "My parents are going to kill me."

"Um, I think you're exaggerating," Joshua said as they began walking, but he was a little afraid to meet Zoë's eyes. He stared instead, at the chips of mica embedded in the pavement that made it shine like silver and diamonds. He hoped she was just exaggerating.

"You clearly haven't met my mother," Zoë noted wryly, and broke into a run, pulling Joshua along behind her at a reckless, breakneck pace.

* * *

"Phoebe Bianca di Angelo," Sholeh growled through gritted teeth, "for the last time, tell me where my daughter is." Her black eyes bored into her niece's with all the intensity of a mother tiger confronting a poacher who was threatening her cubs.

Phoebe and Minerva looked at each other worriedly for a moment. They'd been stalling for time since six thirty, when Aunt Sholeh had gotten home, and their alibi for Zoë was wearing dangerously thin. "We told you already," Phoebe ventured slowly.

"What you told me," Sholeh snapped, fire igniting in her hands, "is bullshit. Where is Zoë?" A strong smell of burning copper spread through the apartment.

"Uh, Sholeh, love," Leo volunteered, "let's just calm down now. Anger isn't going to get anyone anywhere. Violence is not the answer—"

"Leo, be quiet," she ordered. He did so without any protest, but glared at Phoebe and Minerva. Leo could talk about them needing to be calm and rational, but that was only so that his wife didn't burn the building down in anger. His narrowed eyes sent one clear message to the two girls: tell me where my daughter is. Now.

"Okay, um, we were telling the truth," Minerva explained cautiously, "Zoë went shopping for stuff to bring to camp right after school. But she, uh, took the wrong subway—"

"Zoë is afraid of the subway. She's afraid of being underground," Sholeh stated flatly, advancing toward the two girls sitting on the couch in the living room.

"She means bus," Phoebe quickly interjected. "Bus. Ha ha, isn't it funny how easy it is to mix those two up?"

"Not really," Sholeh replied, one eyebrow cocked and foot tapping. The flames in the fireplace crackled, growing monstrously large.

"So, uh, she took the wrong bus and ended up in Times Square. And then she called us to say that she was okay and all that, and she just needed to catch the next bus, which leaves at nine, but then it got, uh, a flat tire. So then she called us again to say that they were fixing it and she'll be home real soon." Minerva explained hopefully, wishing for the thousandth time that night that Zoë would show up already and they could stop telling these ridiculous lies.

From the time they were little, the three girls, Zoë, Phoebe, and Minerva had lived by the unwritten laws of sisterhood. There had never been a shadow of doubt in Minerva's mind that she would cover for Zoë. It wasn't even an option to admit that she didn't know where the Hades her friend was, just as it wasn't an option to stop blinking. Zoë would have done the same for her, and had on many occasions before. The only thing that could compare was the bond she had with her twin, Chase. Chase and Minerva were unbelievably close at most times, to the extent that they might as well have been joined at the hip. But the rare times the Jackson siblings fought, or Minerva needed help with something out of Chase's league, she always had Phoebe and Zoë there.

"Sure. Try again, because I'm not buying it," Sholeh snarled. "Leo, did you even look for her?"

"Of course. I went to the school, the soccer field, the mall, the record store, the Jackson's, the di Angelo's, the police station, and the hospital," he replied, sitting down on the couch, running his hands through his hair. "Of course I looked for her. Can you tell if she's… um, you know?"

"What? Can I tell if she's _dead_?" Sholeh replied, gnashing her teeth, even the thought of such a thing causing her pain. "No, she's not dead or dying."

"Can't you tell where she is?" Phoebe asked, and her aunt shot her a treacherous glare.

"No, I can't. My field is strictly fire and civilization, and since the whereabouts of my only daughter have nothing to do with either of those, I'm pretty much screwed in this one," the goddess said bitterly, pacing back and forth. She felt so powerless, which was something Sholeh loathed being. And worse than that was the aching in her chest, all her instincts screaming to tear her daughter's attackers limb from limb.

* * *

"Okay, here's the thing, Joshua," Zoë said, suddenly stopping a block away from her house. Joshua came to an abrupt halt, skidding across a subway grate and bumping into his girlfriend. "There's stuff you need to know before we get to my house."

"Alright," he replied automatically, watching the way a train passing below them blew Zoë's hair into such strange curls and angles.

"I've already told you this, but my family is a little different. So you will inevitably see things that aren't going to make sense, your eyes being as keen as they are."

Joshua puzzled over what that meant. His eyes? He wasn't wearing contacts or glasses, and Zoë's face was blurred in the misty night; his eyes were obviously anything but keen.

"So just, uh, don't make a big deal out of anything. Like, don't freak out." Zoë prayed that he would do as she asked. If anything godly happened, Zoë just didn't think she could handle it if he ran away calling her crazy. "And just go along with whatever I say. I'm going to try and cover for you until you can get picked up, so if my parents ask who your Olympian parent is, say that you're unclaimed."

"What?"

"Just do it, okay?"

"Okay." They walked the rest of the way to her house.

* * *

"That's it!" Sholeh Eliot screamed. "That is IT, gods damn it! I am going out to look for my daughter!" The fire in the mantle raged, and Minerva frantically tried to push it back into the grate with a poker.

"I'll come with you," Leo gladly offered, grabbing coats for the both of them. "But Sholeh, your form is slipping."

In times of great stress or anger, Sholeh found it hard to concentrate on changing her appearance to that of a thirty seven year old woman. Her face had been getting steadily smoother and her form smaller since she realized that Zoë was missing. Sighing, Sholeh closed her eyes and focused on looking older.

"Let's go," she ordered, grabbing her husband's hand and pulling him to the door.

* * *

"We're here," Zoë announced nervously when the two of them reached the door to apartment 6A. She played with a silver bracelet on her wrist, and suddenly realized that her hand was sweaty from holding Joshua's for so long.

"Okay," the boy replied, equally worried. "Nothing to lose right?"

Zoë Eliot didn't reply. She just muttered, "Dead meat," beneath her breath and opened the door at the exact instant her mother did.

Joshua looked up to see a furious woman standing in the doorway, glowering at him as if there was nothing more she would like to do than roast him for dinner. He gulped audibly to stare at the black haired woman with eyes darker than the night sky. She seemed to be around thirty, maybe five feet six inches, a slight figure like her daughter's, the same pointed nose and intensity of expression.

Beside him, Joshua heard Zoë say calmly, "Hi Mom."

The woman suddenly grabbed her daughter in a ferocious embrace, her scowl replaced by relief and love, and Joshua thought that he could even see tears spreading from the corners of her eyes.

Zoë stepped back slowly once her mother released her, clearly shaken with emotion. The girl felt surprisingly guilty. All the time she'd spent with Joshua, she'd said over and over how she didn't care what her parents thought. But seeing her mother's absolute terror that Zoë was lost forever, she felt a lump of emotion welling up in her throat, and found abruptly that she did care, tremendously much, about her parents. And Zoë was hit by the guilt that she could have ever thought otherwise.

"Don't you ever, EVER do that to me again!" Sholeh roared, and the force emanating from the woman stunned Joshua. She wasn't just loud, either. He couldn't explain why, but she was definitely powerful. It was a little like the puzzling aura around Zoë, except in a more concentrated form, less diluted. _Diluted by what?_ Joshua thought.

"I'm sorry, Mom, Dad," Zoë replied slowly, her voice strained from trying not to cry. _Gods, I will not cry. Not now._

Joshua noticed for the first time, the man standing behind Zoë's mother. He could tell from the identical tan skin, the shape of their faces and eyes that the man had to be Zoë's father. He too, looked tremendously thankful that his daughter was home safe, but

Joshua was stunned by the dichotomy between Mr. and Mrs. Eliot.

Sholeh Eliot was fierce and intense, someone to tread cautiously around, the way you didn't yell loudly when there was threat of an avalanche. Leo Eliot, on the other hand, had a kind of easy, boyish, good looks, and none of the savagery of his wife. Joshua noticed a patch of irritated skin under the left side of the man's jaw, apparently a hickey of some kind. The boy guessed that he played some kind of string instrument, either a violin or viola. And Mr. Eliot's hands were stained with ink, pointing to the fact that he was a composer.

_Well, _Joshua thought, _at least I don't have to worry about her dad getting his gun out to chase me off the property._

"And who that Hades are you?" Leo growled suddenly at the boy, and stared at his daughter, obviously demanding an answer. The two teens glanced at each other quickly.

_Okay, maybe I can't discount that possibility_, Joshua recanted.

"Um, this is Joshua," Zoë began. "I'd love to tell you his story, but can we come in maybe? We've been out all day and it started raining just now, on our way back here."

"Sure," Sholeh replied, but her glare at Joshua was far from welcoming. His eyes widened as he stepped over the threshold. _Here I go,_ he thought, _falling deeper down the rabbit hole and into Wonderland._

At first, Joshua thought that he'd stepped onto the surface of the sun. The room was so brightly lit he could barely recognize Zoë's silhouette, and the apartment was absurdly hot, close to the temperature of a sauna. Gradually his eyes adjusted to the brightness, and Joshua could see that the Eliots were staring at him with intensity, while Zoë poured two glasses of water from a pitcher, handing one to him. He was surprised the water didn't evaporate.

The living room was small, with a leather couch that looked like it had seen better days, a wooden coffee table, a small bookshelf containing books with titles he couldn't read, an upright piano, and a desk of some sort. Huge paintings covered the walls, their bold strokes and vibrant colors giving the room a sense of chaos and urgency. Music was piled in huge stacks on the coffee table, overflowing onto the floor. Joshua could see what looked like a tray of daggers balancing on the arm of the couch. The view of the city from the window was obstructed by the odd assortment of objects on the ledge. A glass half filled with milk, a ruby bracelet, children's clumsy drawings, a vinyl record of the Rolling Stones' 'Let it Bleed', seashells, car keys, a tiny abstract silver sculpture, and various other objects Joshua couldn't see properly.

A monstrous fire crackled in a mantle to his right, and it looked as though it was ready to burst forth and devour him at any moment. Joshua noticed that when Zoë stepped closer to the flames, they got even larger, as thought they were welcoming home a lost sister.

The most remarkable thing about the room was the candles. Candles everywhere, perched on every available space. At least ten arranged haphazardly on the coffee table, all of them different colors, sizes and shapes. Five more stood on the bookshelf; approximately eleven were on the desk in a dangerous proximity to the painting hanging above. Zoë sat down on the coffee table, her sleeve dangling right over a candle's flame, completely ignorant of the overwhelming flammability of the whole arrangement.

"Not on the table, Zoë," Leo Eliot ordered his daughter. She instead sat down on the leather couch, and Joshua noticed the other girls for the first time. One looked to be Zoë's age, with black hair, olive skin, and attractive features that were covered by an angry scowl. _Phoebe_, he guessed, _which makes the blonde girl Minerva_.

"Phoebe, Minerva, get out," Sholeh commanded, pointing towards the door, which was painted orange and had doodles of people drawn all over it. Coincidentally, three boys stood at the door as well, two of them with a strong resemblance to Zoë, despite their black hair and darker features, the other who looked a little like Minerva.

"Is Zoë in trouble?" the biggest boy asked eagerly. Joshua guessed this had to be Azrael.

"Yes," her father replied through gritted teeth.

"Sweet," he replied with a wide grin.

"Go away, Azrael!" Zoë said, annoyed. "This isn't any of your business."

"Oh, I think it is."

"Azrael, leave. That means you too, Leon and Chase," Mr. Eliot added.

"Well, I'm not going," Phoebe protested. "I just covered for Zoë for practically six hours, and I think I deserve to hear where the Hades she's been this whole time."

Sholeh scoffed. "Think again. Go to the kitchen. Now. And I'm telling your dad all about this, by the way."

Phoebe started to protest, but finally gave up upon receiving a furious glare from Zoë's parents, and stomped out, pulling the boys out with her.

"Thanks, Phoebe," Zoë added with a weak smile, and motioned for Joshua to sit down next to her. He did so, stumbling over stacks of paper and stubbing his toe on the side of the couch.

There was an uncomfortable silence in which Joshua wondered in he could roll up his sleeves, or if Zoë's parents would take it badly and think he was insulting the temperature of their house or something. He could feel sweat slowly trickle down the back of his neck.

"Well, we're waiting," Mrs. Eliot demanded.

"I was walking to school this morning and I met Echidna and a hellhound along the way," Zoë began confidently. "I defeated Echidna and her pet, and sent the hellhound back to Hades, but Joshua here noticed me fighting and helped me out. He's a half blood, too." The girl prayed that his god-marking could temporarily convince her parents that he was a demigod.

"Who's your immortal parent?" Mrs. Eliot asked angrily. It seemed to Joshua that waves of heat were rolling off the woman, but then he convinced himself that that couldn't be true. People didn't emanate heat.

"Uh, I'm unclaimed," Joshua replied unconvincingly. It was hard to act if you didn't know what the hell you were talking about. Like being thrown into a performance of _Les Miz _without ever having read the script.

"Yeah, so then we met at school and got to talking, and then after school was over, we decided to go to a free concert in Central Park, and just completely lost track of time."

"That's funny," came a voice from the doorway. The all looked over to see Azrael casually leaning against the doorpost, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Because he looks mortal to me. Real mortal." The Eliots' attention snapped back to Joshua. He suddenly felt as if he were a specimen under a magnifying glass.

"He's right," Sholeh said, a little astonished beneath her fury. "He's mortal. And god-marked."

"Uh oh," Azrael said tauntingly to his sister. "Somebody's in trouble."

"Why can't you just shut up for once?" Zoë asked him furiously.

"Whoops," Azrael replied mock innocently.

"Azrael, for the last time, _leave_," Leo commanded, his voice rising. "Okay, you said your name was Joshua, right?" Joshua nodded. "Have you been going out with my dad?"

"_What_?" the boy asked, his voice breaking with shock. He was beginning to think that these people were simply insane.

"Are you my dad's lover or something?" the man asked again, weary and uncomfortable.

"Dad!" Zoë protested.

"Look, it wouldn't be the first time," Leo replied angrily. "And, as much as I hate to admit it, your grandfather is the only one who would date a boy this young—"

"He's not Apollo's boyfriend, he's mine!" Zoë shouted. There was another blank silence as all three Eliots fumed and Joshua sat there, feeling horribly awkward and confused.

Suddenly the door creaked open. "We just got your call, we came as soon as we could," came a deep voice that reminded Joshua of waves crashing against sand. "Did you find her yet—?"

A black haired man entered with a smaller but fierce-looking blonde woman, both of whom looked shocked and relieved at Zoë's reappearance.

"Joshua, these are the Jacksons," Zoë explained quietly.

"Um, hi," Percy said.

"Hello," Annabeth added slowly.

Everyone in the room, including Joshua, stared at Zoë, their gazes questioning, furious, and confused. Zoë took a deep, faltering breath, and blinked away rebellious tears. "Okay, I give up. Joshua is a mortal. He goes to my school, and saw me fighting this morning. Actually _saw_ me, not the Mist. I don't know how. But then at lunch we decided to go see a concert in Central Park, and the rest is the absolute truth: I really did lose track of time. So I screwed up, I know. And I'm really sorry about making you worry," Zoë seemed genuinely apologetic, but Sholeh just scoffed at this, "but please, can Joshua just call his parents and go home? You can punish me however you want."

"He can walk," Sholeh said maliciously.

"Mom, you know he'll get eaten by something."

The woman crossed her arms, enraged, but didn't reply, because suddenly Azrael and Chase burst into the room, screaming for their parents to look at what they could do. Suspended in the air, spreading from each of the boy's palms, was a strand of fire and water, twisted together. The flames flew up from Azrael, and the water from Chase.

"Isn't this sick?" Chase asked eagerly, jumping up and down. "We're getting really good, see—"

"_What the hell_?" Joshua yelled. This place was a madhouse. He cradled his head in his hands, his mind throbbing and a migraine coming on. Joshua realized that he might have gotten much more than what he bargained for in this Wonderland.

"Now look what you did! Azrael, why the Hades did you have to go and do that for?" Zoë shrieked.

"Azrael, Chase, OUT!" Mrs. Eliot bellowed. "NOW!" The boys sprinted out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Joshua suddenly noticed that flames, actual fire, were surrounding the woman's hands as well, and it burned a terrifying blue without harming her skin. And he could have sworn that she was getting younger and younger with every passing moment, until Zoë's mother looked a disturbing sixteen years old.

"Sholeh, love," Leo offered cautiously, taking a step back, "Your form is slipping again."

"Gods damn it," she muttered, and instantaneously looked older once more. "Can this be any _more_ screwed up than it already is? I mean, why don't we just scream in the mortal's face that we're _gods_?"

The entire room stared at her. "Oh shit," Mrs. Eliot swore.

"I am officially going insane," the boy muttered.

Mrs. Jackson swiftly walked over to the couch, kneeling before Joshua. "You didn't see any of this. None of this ever happened. You just got lost and came in here to use the phone. You don't know any of us," Annabeth said soothingly and then snapped once with her right hand.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" Joshua asked, leaning away from her. "You people are freaking crazy!" Percy groaned loudly from the corner.

"What the—" Leo began.

"Okay, everyone just SHUT UP!" Sholeh screamed, hands grasping her hair as if she were about to rip it out. "Zoë, you are in some deep trouble. A mortal? A mortal? Do I even need to tell you the problem with that? What were you _thinking_?"

Zoë opened her mouth to answer, but Sholeh just barreled onward in her rant, pacing the room. Joshua could have sworn sparks flew from the places her feet touched the ground. "No, don't answer that. Because you weren't thinking. That is the only answer. Holy River Styx, what have you _done?_" Zoë scowled, blinking furiously to keep from crying.

The goddess took a deep breath and continued in an only slightly more calm tone, "Annabeth and Percy, call the di Angelos, please, and tell them to pick up Phoebe. And then take Chase and Minerva home. Joshua," she glared at the boy, "tell me your parents' names and phone number. I'll call them."

The boy was about to ask if he could call them himself, but judging by the woman's manic expression, Joshua guessed that it would be a bad idea. So, with a sigh, he replied, "555-8972. Rachel Elizabeth and Jonathan Dare."

Percy groaned into his hands. Annabeth's eyes got _the look_.

"I should have known we hadn't seen the last of that redhead," muttered the son of Poseidon.

* * *

**AN: Dun dun dun! Ah, I'd also like to apologize to whoever's review I didn't answer. I lost track and then just stopped replying... sorry! We really do appreciate you guys! **

**So the chapter title for this one is also the name of a movie with Adam Sandler movie, which is actually pretty good. But I just thought it kind of fit.**


	4. Walking on the Moon

**_A/N from Sistergrimm2: Personal apologies for being so late and sluggish with this chapter. Stuff's been going on in my life, but I've been doing my best. The song for this chapter is Walking on the Moon by The Police. Sorry if it sounds too fluffy._**

Chapter 4:

Walking On The Moon

"_What_ redhead?" exclaimed Sholeh angrily.

Leo's eyebrows frowned, as though trying to remember something.

Annabeth recovered first. "We knew his mom eighteen years ago. She was a mortal _girl_ Percy found who could see through the Mist. She guided us through the Labyrinth and helped us escape from Mount Othrys. Percy never heard from her again- _right_?"

The son of Poseidon threw his hands up in the air. "I got a wedding invitation a few years later, but you were pregnant."

"He does look like her. Same eyes, anyway," mused Annabeth.

"Hold on," Joshua inserted, "you-," he pointed to Percy and Annabeth, "knew my mom? When she was a teenager?"

Percy nodded. "She was brave." Annabeth muttered something inaudible under her breath.

"And what is the Mist? Are you people like the X-Men? I deserve an explanation." Joshua was normally not a demanding guy, but he felt as though he needed consideration. It had been a long twenty minutes.

Leo's eyes zeroed in on the boy, as did Sholeh's, Annabeth's and Percy's. "All right," said Leo resignedly. "Since we've probably messed things up too much for him already, Zoë gets to explain. And if he doesn't believe her, then we don't have to deal with this again," said the immortal with a stubborn chin.

"I'm sure I can think of a suitable punishment," hinted Sholeh, a scary look in her eye.

Joshua turned to Zoë. His eyes were confused, faintly accusatory, but also relieved. Her he trusted. _Not that I should_, _she's lied to me, her family's nuts, and oh God(s) she's just beautiful._

She took his hand and led him into her bedroom, full of posters of rock bands but strangely sunlit from the window.

"Nice place," he mentioned awkwardly.

"Besides the yelling? Ye _gods_, my family" she said, massaging her temples. He merely looked at her, waiting for the explanation. "All right. It's a long story."

"Somehow I figured that out."

Zoë took a deep breath and said, "The Greek gods are alive and living in the United States of America. They dwell on top of the Empire State Building... the 600th floor to be exact. They go around having kids with mortals on a regular basis."

Joshua nodded, still too in shock to question this.

"My mom is a daughter of Hades and Hestia. She can manipulate fire. My dad's a son of Apollo. They fell in love oh... thirty or so years ago, while a war for Western Civilization was raging. Well, my dad was killed in the battle. After Kronos (the enemy Titan) was defeated, my mom went down to the Underworld and got him back. They were made immortal. My mom's a goddess of fire and civilization. My dad- well, he's her immortal consort, so he doesn't do anything in terms of Olympian councils, and he doesn't have special powers or anything. The Jacksons and di Angelos are extended family- uh, sort of. Uncle Percy's a son of Poseidon, and Aunt Annabeth's a daughter of Athena. She can manipulate the Mist. But you can see through it, so... Anyway. Phoebe's parents are a daughter of Eris and my mom's half-brother, a son of Hades. They're mortal. Like me."

"So... you're not gonna, you know, live forever?" managed Joshua, seizing on the most important part in that explanation.

"Nope. Wouldn't want to."

"Your dad was _dead_?" He found it difficult to imagine the vibrant older man had ever not been alive.

"Oh, only for a little while," shrugged Zoë.

"Your mom is a _goddess_?"

"Yea."

"You weren't kidding when you said they were famous," murmured Joshua.

"It's like being the president's daughter."

Joshua shuddered in sympathy, trying to imagine that. "So I can..."

"See through the Mist. The reason the mortals don't notice what's going on. There are a few who are like that- I guess it's genetic."

"But what was that other thing? _God-marked_? When your dad started asking if I was dating his dad?"

Zoë shuddered. "Apollo's fun, but he's really... not too focused," she managed to be diplomatic, while thinking _man-slut_. How awkward would it have been if Joshua _had_ been dating him? "Anyway. When a mortal has a god's favor, they get an aura around them. It makes them smell like a demigod."

"_Smell_?"

"The monsters you saw earlier today. They hunt the descendants of the gods. We're like big juicy snacks to them. And now your life is in danger. The longer you stay around me, the worse it'll get. Probably, it would be best for you to never see me again," she said, lip quivering. He wasn't like anyone she'd ever met. He was nice. He drew pictures of absolute beauty. He wasn't pretentious or going to try to take advantage of her like that jerk son of Dionysus did to Phoebe. He would never harm her. _Why couldn't I just be normal?_

Zoë had never wanted to be normal. She'd never really minded being a demigod. The sense of family and community it brought to her was incredible. Life was never dull. In fact, for her it had seemed to be no cost at all.

_Until now_.

Joshua's eyes were huge. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Never," she told him. "But you need to know the facts. I guess I would be kind of a high maintenance girlfriend."

Joshua grew serious, and he took her hand, their faces slowly coming closer together as they faced each other on the bed. "High-maintenance people need someone who's very well... _low _maintenance around, just to keep them grounded."

"And_ low­_-maintenance people," she said as they stood, half-suspended between kiss and pulling away, "need a little _high_-maintenance activity to, um, keep them entertained-," She never finished the sentence, because whether she'd started it or he had, they were kissing, gloriously kissing, and grasping each other's shoulders. Love and sun exploded behind his eyelids, as though he was soaking up her warmth by osmosis. She felt anything but grounded. Pure bliss exploded in her body. The joy within her vibrated in the room, heat spreading as the kiss intensified.

Finally both were forced to break apart due to a need for oxygen, the embrace preserved as they regained their breath.

"I think I love you," he told her seriously. "I'm probably nuts, but I love you."

"I love you. Wanna go to the movies tomorrow, if I'm still alive?"

"Yeah. It's all so fast, y'know? Not in a bad way, but-,"

She nodded. "Giant steps you take, walking on the moon, I hope my legs don't break." She sighed, giving him no time to recognize the Police quote. "I'm leaving for camp in three days. I don't think I could take you, but you won't be safe-," Zoë half-considered suggesting he stay with her parents, but there was no way that was going to happen on her watch.

A cough came from the door. They both turned around, expecting Zoë's parents.

A woman with bouncy red sausage curls, blue eyes, freckles, and a motherly expression and build stood in the doorway. She wore a paint smock and old jeans, but looked at Zoë and Joshua like a bear looked at her threatened cub.

Joshua controlled a gulp. "Mom. Zoë Phaedra Eliot. Zoë, this is my mom."

Rachel sighed. "I never wanted you to know this," she murmured, half to her son, half to herself. "I said I'd keep you from that world. Who... what god parent are you, Zoë?" she asked sadly.

"I'm a granddaughter of Apollo, Hades and Hestia," replied Zoë primly.

"I don't want you near my son. He'll get killed." Rachel's mouth was forming a thin, angry line.

"Mom!" exclaimed Joshua.

Percy walked in the doorway. "You thought it was worth it, when you were _younger_ than he was, Rachel Elizabeth Dare," he informed her.

Rachel's controlled expression went away. "And what did I get for it, Percy Jackson? Not even a phone call! I saved your life so many times, and what did I get for it? Nothing! Not even a 'here, Rachel, thanks for helping to save Western Civilization.' No. You never showed up at school and I spent a year and a half wondering if you were _dead_, if the world was going to end. And then twenty years later, when I _finally_ have a man I love, two happy children, a _normal_ life, I get a call from some angry goddess about my _son_ with your goddaughter! Joshua. You're going home," she said firmly. Zoë inhaled a deep breath, closing her mouth shut. She hadn't known Uncle Percy to be _that_ careless. And Mrs. Dare was making it out to be... that... they'd _dated_ or something? No wonder Aunt Annabeth had been displeased.

Zoë finally spoke. "If he wants to go with you, Mrs. Dare, then by all means take him. We have ways of protecting him from the monsters. But if he wants to stay, then nothing is going to get him out of here. I think I could take you in a fight."

Rachel and Zoë looked each other up and down. Joshua bit his lip, eyes going back and forth. Then they both turned to him.

There was a pause as Joshua fought with what he'd always known and what he'd always wished he did.

"I love you, Mom. But I want to stay," he finally said.

Rachel's eyes nearly filled up with tears, then she took a gulp. "Keep him safe, Zoë," she told her son's girlfriend fiercely, eyes boring into the young woman.

"I won't let anything harm him," she told the older woman.

An understanding passed between them as the two very different but equally stubborn eyes met. Slowly both nodded.

"Joshua... are you going to Camp Half-Blood with her?" asked the clear-sighted mortal wearily.

"I can't think of another way to keep him _safe_," sighed Zoë. "But I don't know how Chiron will feel about it."

"Speaking of which," said Azrael from the now-crowded doorway, "Chiron's on the phone. Something about the Oracle. You better come into the kitchen." He looked down his nose at Joshua. "You hurt my sister, you talk about our family, and I will send you to Hades with a smile on my face." Azrael demonstrated such a smile, and left.

"Of all the times for him to start playing big brother," she murmured into her hands.

Zoë had that thought again. _Why couldn't I be normal_? _Just a girl on a date._

Joshua looked at her, eyes calm. "You going to need to take a rain check on that movie?"

Zoë massaged her temples. "Probably. Come with me?" she asked, blue eyes suddenly very vulnerable and very young.

"Where you go, I follow," he told her.

And they walked into the kitchen, holding each other's hands in defiance to the laws of the mortal and immortal worlds, but mostly just because she didn't know how long they would get to.

* * *

**Next chappie is coming up very soon, promise! Its already written and everything!**


	5. Jail Break

Music for this chappie:  
LAX to O'Hare - The Academy Is...

* * *

Chapter 5:

Jail Break

Joshua felt out of place in the large kitchen (well, for a Manhattan apartment). Crowded in the space were Azrael, a boy who looked more like Sholeh than the rest of her children but possessed a much less powerful aura- Leon, he remembered-, a girl with blonde hair and sea-green eyes next to Leon, he watching her every move adoringly. Joshua put the thoughts of incest right out of his mind. At least one of Zoe's family should be too distracted to kill him. The girl who studied him judiciously, as though she were judging him, with those crazy blue eyes, resembled Zoe's description of Phoebe. The other good-looking boy with black hair and wise gray eyes was leaning back in his chair, the only one of the kids to seem perfectly at ease. Nothing ever bothered Chase, it seemed.

"The Oracle has spoken," said the voice from the speakerphone in the center of the table. "It's said you all need to come to Camp, even the mortal. Not that any of you would have a mortal around-," here Chiron paused, "_would_ you?"

Azrael sighed into the microphone. "Zoe's new boyfriend. God-marked."

Chiron paused, and if he could be seen, Zoe felt her mentor shaking his head. "All right. So it seems we have a war brewing."

"Against who? Why?" said Minerva anxiously into the phone. No, Kronos could _not_ have risen.

Chiron paused again.

"Against mortals. Terrorists, to be exact. They are so crazed the Mist is having no effect on them. The gods believe they are no threat. But they are a threat to Camp. We must train and prepare."

All seven visibly paled. Joshua's brain was running in circles. _A war? Holy shit, what have I gotten myself into?_

Phoebe sighed. "How many do we have again? Who is going to lead the quests?"

"Well, according to the Oracle, Astor and Aegle plus you… seven are going to lead scouting missions and our defenses will be worked on by the other cabins. Poseidon cabin is staying behind to make sure it is a strong defense."

The Big Three had renounced their oath three years after Sholeh saved Olympus. Astor Maguire was a sixteen-year-old, completely obnoxious, arrogant and womanizing son of Zeus. Aegle was his little sister and being groomed as a Huntress, which all the boys including Chase found a tragedy.

"How long do we have?" Phoebe asked, noting Zoe had taken a protective stance in front of Joshua. Under her hurt that Zoe had forgotten all about her with Joshua, and a twinge of envy seeing how completely _happy_ they were, like she had been with… _don't say his name, don't say his name_, she chanted- there was a little bit of empathy for Zoe's concern. Joshua was completely untrained, god-marked, and therefore looked like a big juicy snack to every monster around.

Chiron was speaking, though, so she snatched her attention away from the two and the problem. "Two months. We will be intensively training. Our numbers are greater than they were at the Second Titan War, but this is a new style of fighting. Our weapons are outdated compared to them." A sigh came through the phone. "Hephaestus cabin will be needing help."

"Chiron, what exactly _was_ your prophecy? Why us?" asked Leon, brow furrowed.

Chiron replied dutifully, "_The immortal world shaken by new dangers,_

_Half-blooded children will lead three missions into the world unknown-_

_The first led by the eldest male of the greatest three_

_The eagle circled by his smaller kin, his most beloved lover, and he of the sea's wisdom_

_The result shall seem to be to little avail but it will bring far-reaching security in time-_

_The second of these missions is to be led by the false angel and a Spartan king_

_Two whom they treasure most will follow-_

_The last of these quests is charged to uncertain death's granddaughter,_

_Her lifelong best friends and a mortal unknowingly blessed._

_But peril lurks for those who say behind, for the race of demigods cannot survive if they fight alone_

_The second and third's actions will be determined by the first._

_The first begins when love is about to burst and the eternal maidens have left with one untaken._"

Minerva had been scribbling this all down furiously.

"That's a loooooooong prophecy," murmured Leon.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Chiron, and the phone clicked dead.

"Is the Oracle becoming some sort of matchmaker? Does Aphrodite have a deal with that mummy?" asked Phoebe. "When love is about to burst? Sounds like something she would say, am I right?"

All the boys looked at her like she was nuts.

Minerva, however, seemed to think she had a point.

"Well, first off, Astor-," her mouth hardened into a line at the name- "must be 'the eldest male of the greatest three, the eagle." So he's got one of his groupies going along, along with his some relative of his. For the second quest, Azrael is obviously "the false angel," since his name is associated with the angel of death. And "the Spartan king"…" she trailed off, thinking. "Well, that would be Leonidas. So Azrael and Leon have to bring the two they most want to protect. You know, _lovers_. And that last line about the Hunters' recruitment mission going empty-handed? Hm. Anyway, how did all this love stuff get into the prophecy? From what I've heard, that's not typical at all. I wonder if Aphrodite's triple-timing Ares and Hephaestus. Cheating on both of them with Apollo."

"Dad?" asked Leon as he passed by the kitchen.

"Yeah?" Leo said, looking up from his composition papers.

"Is Aphrodite sleeping with Apollo?"

He looked around at the children, knowing better than to ask why.

Azrael sighed dramatically, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Well, we just got a Cupid-filled message from the Oracle."

Leo sighed. "Honestly, I don't think Dad has any control over the thing. He got it by default and hasn't the inclination to figure out how it works. He always says telling us that a clear meaning would defeat the artistic purpose... He probably just doesn't get what it means. But if it makes you feel better, Aphrodite and your grandfather have never gotten along well after Daphne. Your grandfather-,"

Zoë saw Apollo more often than the other gods, but his visits were still pretty infrequent. Her most vivid memory was from when the teenage god had hit on Minerva last year. Definitely not a grandfatherly type, but her Dad always called him that, as though trying to subconsciously pass on the embarrassing relative to someone else. The man continued, "Well, he probably would think Aphrodite is too high-maintenance... wait, a message from the Oracle?" The immortal finally looked up, mouth slightly agape. "That thing hasn't spoken in twenty years."

"Well, it's back and talkative," Leon informed his father. Minerva quickly gave the paper to Phoebe, who tucked it away in her bag. This passed unnoticed to the disturbed immortal's eyes.

"I'll have to talk to your mother," Leo said finally. "I can't believe we haven't been contacted about this."

"According to Chiron," Chase said, "it's only a threat to the demigods. Who the gods don't really trust or care about, and they can make more of. No offense, Mr. Eliot," he added hastily. The man was so casual and benign; it was very easy to forget he was immortal. People sometimes wondered what they would do for the rest of eternity, after their children and friends eventually died. _If Aunt Sholeh can't figure it out, then nobody can._

Leo's lips quirked briefly, the fluorescent lighting catching the golden highlights in the man's hair. "None taken, I know what you mean." His eyes hardened briefly at the memories of Sholeh with her uncaring parents, of his mother crying over an old picture of Apollo. _Anyways_. "But I can't believe that they'd do _nothing_. Leave a bunch of teenagers to defend themselves from..." He trailed off, remembering that that was exactly what he had done, all that time ago. His children were now walking in his and Sholeh's own footsteps. "What are you fighting?"

"Crazed mortal terrorists. Are there demigod F.B.I. agents?" Chase wanted to know.

Leo blinked. "Mortals?" He shook his head, as though out of a daze. "I think I better talk to Sholeh." He went into the study.

The six kids went into circle mode. Joshua felt awkward and alone, until Zoë tugged his hand so he could see into it. It made him smile, the way she automatically included him.

"Okay. Escape To Camp Plan B?" said Zoë hurriedly.

* * *


	6. Live Fast and Die Young

Hey everybody! For anybody who had questions in their reviews, they'll be answered right here.

**Cerebella**- thanks so much! And their ages are: Zoë= 17, Azrael= 14, Leon= 13, Joshua= 16, Phoebe= 17, Chase + Minerva= 13

**Stonekipsta**- Thanks a billion! You're right, Zoë and Joshua's relationship is a little unrealistically fast, but that's partially for contrast to other relationships later in this story. And sorry about the prophecy, but I can't rhyme for my life. Like, at all. Yep, Apollo is bisexual, but he was in Greek mythology too and had a bunch of affairs with both women and men. So thanks again!

**365 Pages of Awsomeness**- Thanks for reviewing, and so sorry about the confusion. Since I don't want to use up any more space for the chappie here, I'll PM you right away with an explanation, which will hopefully help.

And for everyone else who reviewed, thanks again!!!

Music:  
Crawling - Linkin Park

* * *

Chapter 6:

Live Fast and Die Young

Zoë was suddenly filled with an urge to get _out_ of the house. She didn't want to stick around and wait for their parents to argue over if they should go, and then have to all pile in separate cars and start the drive to Camp. She wanted to be there now, review the prophecy with Phoebe and Minerva, and make plans for these quests themselves. "Come on, let's go. We'll sneak out down the fire escape."

Phoebe sighed. "We don't have the supplies."

"Like the Hermes kids can't get them for us anyway," said Minerva with a throwaway gesture. "We can pick them up on the way, they're just down the street. They've got a van, too. I second Zoë's idea."

"I have a suitcase packed already, anyway," Zoë said, nodding furiously. "Azrael, Leon and Chase, did you pack your junk?" Zoë was clearly in 'leader' position now.

"Everything but the weapons. And what about _him_?" The angelic-demonic-looking boy jerked an unflattering thumb to Joshua.

Zoë blinked. "I'm sorry. I didn't think. Do you want to borrow some of Azrael's stuff? Or..." She didn't know if her parents would let her go once the whole story got out. She could feel that trap smothering her again, the protection and the suppression of her ambitions due to safety. Common sense against instinct.

Azrael grunted and said, "Sure. Why not, let's babysit the mortal some more. Come on, kid."

Joshua would rather have gone into the lion's den than with Azrael. However, Zoë was going.

Therefore, he was following.

He walked behind Azrael into the boy's room and found what seemed to be an infinite amount of daggers, swords and throwing javelins on the wall. Azrael was stuffing a few of the most important ones (a.k.a. the ones that looked the scariest), and some clothes into a duffel bag. "I have a bigger store at camp," he told his sister's boyfriend gruffly. He eyed the boy dubiously. Joshua seemed so much younger than Azrael, though he was actually older. He just had an air of innocence about him, and his eyes seemed perpetually wide open, like a doe in the headlights. "Have you ever taken any sports?"

"Archery, when I was younger," replied the mortal.

Azrael looked taken aback, almost approving. "We'll get Zoë to teach you lessons at camp. She's the best of us. Also some javelins if your aim is good. Probably some targets too, I guess. And gun shooting."

"Thanks," said Joshua uncertainly.

Azrael eyed the boy, sizing him up as though for target practice. "I meant what I said before," he told Joshua.

Joshua nodded.

"And I'm going to train you until you ache so bad you wish I'd go through with it," warned the grandson of Hades.

Joshua nodded again, slightly nervous.

"But if she had to pick a mortal, she could have done worse, I guess," shrugged Azrael. He threw a duffel bag at the older-younger boy and walked out.

Zoë skipped inside, and grabbed Joshua's hand. "See, he likes you," smiled his guide of the heart. "Now, let's go. Stick close to me and Azrael and absolutely do not go off on your own. Follow me to the fire escape." The two of them snuck through the hallway and to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible, so as not to alert Mr. and Mrs. Eliot to their flight.

Phoebe, Minerva, Chase, Leon, and fey Azrael were waiting there. They nearly flew, certainly more than dashed, down the narrow stairs as Joshua struggled to keep up, bumping into the metal railing with a clatter. Zoë led her family through several alleys clearly the rest of them knew. Every couple minutes, the demigods stopped to throw rocks at the windows of their friends. Soon after, new half bloods Joshua had never met crawled down from the windows and joined the group, hurriedly hugging their friends or giving sneaky high fives.

The clear-sighted mortal just hung onto Zoë's hand, allowing himself to be pulled along. He was practically gasping for air after a few minutes, his lungs and muscles protesting their breakneck pace. But his body eventually settled into a rhythm, and Joshua found himself enjoying the sweet night air and the hushed sounds of traffic.

But that didn't stop the Hydra.

It all happened so fast, Zoe's cry of "_No_!", Phoebe's quick stabs as the thing exploded into golden dust, and Leon running up, hoping with his small dab of healing ability he could at least tell what was wrong. Blood was already flowing freely from Joshua's wound as he collapsed to the ground with a tiny, "Oh!" Zoë grabbed him before his head hit the ground, and cradled the boy on her lap.

Leon's blue eyes were filled with pity when he looked at his sister. "It's in his bloodstream and beginning to circulate. We should get him either to a hospital or camp. _Fast_."

Zoe made a split second decision. "We keep going. A mortal hospital won't know how to deal with Hydra poison." In her arms she could see his eyes fluttering, feel his pulse weakening. She refused to panic. He wasn't going to die.

Two girls who had recently joined their group produced car keys, and sprinted away. After only a couple terrified minutes, in which no one knew quite what to say, and Joshua's temperature rose steadily, the two demigods returned driving a beat up minivan. The demigods all piled in, and Phoebe took the wheel. Zoë sat in the very back and propped Joshua up on her lap, ignoring the buildings zooming by.

"It's my fault," she whispered, face ashen and tears of fire on her cheeks. She didn't even notice them as they vanished into sparks.

"He made the choice to stay with you. Joshua knew the risks," said Phoebe, offering up what comfort she could.

"Don't say his name like he's gone," shuddered Zoe through a tight throat. Phoebe slowly turned away as her friend began to whisper in the mortal's ear, telling him not to leave her.

Phoebe had a brief memory flash of Dionsyus' son, her boyfriend, Winslow hunting her in that forest, trying to rape her against a tree in a Capture the Flag game. She'd screamed a curse at him, invoking her grandfather's name, and the ground had swallowed him up.

_Please, Grandfather_, she whispered to the lord of the dead. _Don't punish her like you did me. She hasn't made a mistake. Please. Take my life instead, it's worthless anyway._

The car continued, too slowly.


	7. Anything

AN: Hey guys! So I know that a lot of people were confused about last chapter, and we're really sorry about that! So I went back and edited it, and this is like a major pain for you all probably, but if you were really confused, I'd maybe recommend just taking a look at it really quickly, or something. So _so_ sorry! Otherwise, if you're confused anyway, you can always shoot me or Sister Grimm a PM, and we'll explain it all to you! In other news, I'd just like to take a little time to thank everyone so much for reviewing. It really makes our day. Seriously. You are all ultra uber amazing!

Music:  
Watchman, What is Left of the Night? - Greycoats

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

**Anything**

**By Music6592 and Sister Grimm Erin**

"Can't this van go any gods-damned faster?" Zoë shrieked, after half an hour of enduring stop and go traffic, potholes, and gas refills- they should have called the Gray Sisters' cab. She could feel Joshua's pulse slowing, his skin growing feverish; see his eyes rolling furiously beneath their sallow lids.

"No, it can't, Zoë," Phoebe snapped, although she pushed the gas pedal harder. "Do you have any idea how much weight this jalopy is carrying? And it's not exactly fresh off the freaking lot. We'll be there in, like, twenty minutes." The van barreled off the highway exit ramp and onto a bumpy dirt road, the trees overhanging threateningly as if they were vultures waiting to descend upon the mortal's cadaver, although he was not yet dead. The demigods fell onto each other in a flurry of circling elbows and legs when the car hit ruts in the road. The younger kids stifled giggles when they ended up in their friends' laps, seeing a frantic Zoë hunched over a tiny-seeming Joshua.

"Just hang on," the girl whispered, panic-stricken. He couldn't die, he just couldn't. Zoë knew of countless demigods who had gotten killed by roaming monsters. She'd heard of innumerable half bloods that simply vanished from their quests, never to be seen again, and although no one could bear to say it, everyone knew that these unfortunate kids had probably been killed. Zoë herself had destroyed more monsters than most, and undoubtedly faced violence that would have been shocking for someone twice her age.

And still, she had never been faced with the death of someone dear to her, her friends had never been on a quest, and they were all too good at fighting to get themselves killed carelessly. She tried to console herself by repeating the sheer improbability of Joshua's death, because since no one she knew well had died, in her mind, it followed that this boy certainly couldn't. People didn't just die like that. All of a sudden, just gone, without any warning or justice. They couldn't. Could they?

When Joshua became even stiller and his fevered moaning stopped, Zoë felt the first tendrils of guilt wrap around her thoughts. _This is all your fault_, some sinister part of her whispered, _if you had been more careful this wouldn't have happened. You should have just let him gone home with his mother, but no, you had to be selfish and keep him all to yourself. That Hydra was probably aiming for you, not him._

A strangled sob escaped her lips, torn from a raw throat. He was fading fast. What was the last thing Joshua had said? She desperately tried to remember. Whatever it had been, Zoë began to think that it might have been his last words.

* * *

There wasn't any light. No sensation of floating above his body, no rush of endorphins to his brain, no sudden and complete understanding of the human condition, of the universe, of interconnectedness. There was just pain, the throbbing of a wound on his ribs, and fire creeping slowly through his veins. And Joshua vaguely felt cheated; dying in the dark while in horrific pain was a pretty sucky way to go. His adventure hadn't even started yet. It would have been one thing to die heroically in battle. If you're sailing on the Titanic, you may as well live it up in first class.

And Joshua was, well, pissed off. At the very least he was annoyed, because it is a fact that people dying of Hydra poison generally do not have the energy to be properly pissed off. _This is pathetic._ _Epic fail of a death_, he thought, the sentiment slowly moving through the murky waters of his mind.

And with that, he slipped into unconsciousness, and glimpsed the burning bright light just for an instant.

* * *

Joshua slumped suddenly in his protector's arms. His heart was still beating, but just barely.

"What do I do?" Zoë gasped.

"Just keep pressing to the wound to stop the blood flow," Leon replied, holding his sister's hand in a fruitless attempt to comfort her.

Suddenly Azrael swore vehemently. A terrible thought had just occurred to him.

"What?" Zoë demanded.

"Uh, it's nothing," the boy protested. _Poor kid_, he thought of Joshua, _he's got no chance. Shit, I may not have been too fond of him, but I sure as Hades didn't want him to __die_.

"Tell me _now_," she commanded through gritted teeth.

There was no arguing with Zoë when she got like this, Azrael knew. So he sighed and replied, "We can't give him nectar. It'll kill him."

He was right, Zoë realized. Mortals couldn't eat the food of the gods; they would instantly die. Grasping at straws, she thought for a moment that maybe her cousins in Apollo cabin could do something, but she knew that nothing short of a miracle could stop Hydra poison. Half bloods died from Hydra attacks all the time, sometimes even after they had ingested nectar and ambrosia.

Zoë's last hope was dashed against the rocks, and she could barely feel Joshua's pulse. _Gods, what can I do_? she pleaded desperately. _They won't be able to do anything, it's in his bloodstream, and he just __can't__ die…_

The van jerked to a sudden halt as countless demigods scrambled out. In the confusion, Zoë hadn't noticed how many of them there were. Her brothers, the Jackson twins, and Phoebe were all there of course, along with two teenage daughters of Hermes who had joined them somewhere along the way. Zoë also caught sight of three unclaimed kids who had also lived in the area. She couldn't believe they had all fit in the van.

Someone dragged her away from Joshua and she screamed, furiously shoving away their rough hands. "Gods, Zoë, we're trying to _help_," one of the Apollo kids, presumably the one who had grabbed her, said.

She reluctantly took a step back and allowed the demigod healers to carry him across the lawn to the medical cabin. She followed behind them as close as she could without getting in their way, the entire world a mad tumble of fiery lights and harsh sounds and Joshua's burning skin. When the children of Apollo carried the mortal inside and slammed the door on her, Zoë screamed and pounded at it with all her might, and only refrained from clawing at it with her nails when Azrael forced her to stop, pulling her to the ground.

"Look, Zoë, you have to wait," he told her in hushed tones, trying for once, to be sensitive to his sister. "Just leave it to the Apollo kids. They know what they're doing. Just wait."

"Leave me alone," Zoë replied, hunched against the door and pressing on it with all her might, trying to get closer, by centimeters, to Joshua. Azrael looked at her sadly, a look of pity that the girl hated, and then he walked away.

_Wait?_ She thought incredulously, feeling hot tears run down her cheeks. _Just sit out here and wait? They don't know what the Hades they're doing; he's a mortal, he-_

Then there was someone who popped into the girl's mind. Someone who could heal Joshua. Who was literally the father of all medicine. Who she knew would answer her prayers. Someone she was related to.

Apollo.

Zoë's musings were interrupted by Phoebe's yells. "Zoë, what the Hades is going on? Is Joshua okay?" Phoebe sprinted up to the cabin.

"They're… working on him, I guess," Zoë whispered. "I don't think it's going well though, they won't let me in."

Phoebe gulped, at a complete loss for words. She had always been there for Zoë in the past, but not ever to console her friend over the death of a loved one (or impending death.) In fact, it had been Zoë who'd had to comfort _her _in those times.

"I've got an idea," Zoë continued. "I can pray to Apollo. He'll answer me. Hopefully. And he can heal anything, right? I mean, he's the god of healing, for Hades' sake."

"Your perv grandpa?" Phoebe asked incredulously. "Are you sure he'll answer your prayer? What if he's home in Olympus doing… naughty things?"

"I _have_ to try." Zoë's tear stained face was unbelievably determined, her chin locked and jutting forward.

"Well, I'd really rather not hang around while he's here, Zoë," Phoebe said softly, sitting down next to her friend. "I'll stay if you need me to, but—"

"It's okay, I can handle it," Zoë said, nodding at Phoebe encouragingly. Nico's daughter hugged her friend tightly before sprinting into the forest.

Zoë began in a frantic whisper, her voice ragged from crying. "Apollo, shining one, averter of evil, prophet, creator of music, healer. Please save this mortal. Please, grandfather."

At first nothing happened. Then the air in front of her shimmered slightly and the very oxygen seemed thinner, more fragile, as if the slightest movement could rip it into shreds. Luminescence spread gradually, like the microcosm of dawn happening right in front of her eyes, until light splashed over everything, stirring Zoë's hair like a playful breeze.

A ridiculously good looking teen suddenly stood in front of her, his skin perfectly tan and his figure athletic. He grinned and took a step toward the girl who stared at him, shuddering a little in relief. There was only the sound of the grass rustling and a sharp buzzing, as if the air had become super charged by the man's presence.

"Hey grandpa," Zoë said slowly, and Apollo's smile grew to improbable size.

"Zoë!" the god exclaimed, obviously overjoyed. "How are ya?"

"I've been better," she noted wryly, rubbing her reddened eyes. "Look did you get my prayer?" She didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "You just have to heal him. Please, _please_. You can, can't you?" Zoë asked desperately.

"Well, sure I can. It is _me_ we're talking about here. I'm gonna need something in return though, darling."

The girl stared at him in shock. _Something in return?_ She thought, panicked. _I'm his granddaughter, for godssake. What does he possibly want? _ But she shot back at him, a compulsion as strong as breathing, "Anything."

There was a sickening pause. Zoë's heart sunk into the very soles of her shoes it seemed, as she pondered any number of things the god could ask for. The grass whispered, and she could hear the frantic ministrations of the Apollo kids within the cabin. Somewhere in Camp Half Blood, there were kids laughing, probably meeting their friends for the first time in a year. But all this seemed unreal, like the whole world had ceased to exist in synch with hers.

To some extent, she still couldn't believe that Joshua was hurt, and dying at that. He was so alive. Zoë remembered the way his ears slid up when he smiled. And that smile—cautious at first, with only the tips of his teeth peeking out, until suddenly it broke across his face, wide and exuberant. The things he said, always so polite, almost distant, but once in a while, he let go of all the restraints and blurted out what he really, truly thought. And it was those things that made her blush from the sweetness of it all. She could tell that Joshua cared about people, deeply. He was more empathetic than anyone Zoë had ever met; he didn't just pretend to be sorry for others' problems, he actually felt their pain. And there were fewer layers between the two of them, emotionally, than she had thought was possible.

A sensible person would write it off as puppy love, a crush. Zoë didn't really care what it was. She didn't have any pretenses of them spending eternity together like her mother and father. She didn't even expect a big white wedding, a house with a picket fence, and a couple kids. Zoë just knew that what she had with Joshua, that bond, was something new and exciting and wonderful that she didn't want to ever go away. Only time would tell what happened to them, and she believed that her course with him should just run naturally.

But she needed time for that course to happen, so he just couldn't die.

Zoë whispered again, "Anything."

* * *

AN: Cue the dramatic music! In next chapter, we've got a new character! And we find out what Apollo wants! And Phoebe thinks! And... okay, I'll stop giving stuff away.


	8. Screwed Up Astronomy

AN: So this is like the fastest update... ever. Did we just break a record?

Music:  
Don't Kiss Me Goodbye - Ultra Orange & Emmanuelle

* * *

**Chapter 8:**

**Screwed Up Astronomy  
**

Phoebe knew these pine trees, practically all by heart. Not wanting to endure Apollo's flirting, she'd run away into the North Woods, finding comfort in the calls of birds and hushed chirping of crickets. She'd memorized these woods, these fields and hills years ago, during long summers spent at Camp as a child.

And Phoebe knew this place in all its forms. She knew it when the shadows were just lengthening at dusk, curving indulgently around the cabins. When every Greek column, every plump strawberry, every emerald blade of grass had been washed clean by a thunderstorm, newly innocent and spotless like the world after the biblical flood. When the sun was beating down on laughing, sweaty bodies at midday, its rays ruthlessly bright. When the night sky was so black, it was as if every darkness in the world had been layered, one on top of each other, to produce the end-all-to-be-all night sky. And Phoebe knew Camp when brilliant stars pierced that blackness and shone with all their might.

Memories came back to her, tangling together in her mind. She could still remember her and Zoë's first game of Capture-the-Flag. They had lost spectacularly, and Phoebe had had to wear in arm in a sling for a week afterwards. But they'd come back every summer since they were seven, to create more memories, like the time they had designed a shining golden chariot for the races, only to have it crushed in the first lap. Phoebe still had the gilded wheels. Or there was the time that they'd pulled a magnificent string of pranks on the Ares cabin, and had ended up washing dishes for punishment. Regardless, the two had more triumphant than conquerors. Phoebe could recall talking to Winslow for the first time, about something comically trivial, while they gazed into each other's eyes with mutual naiveté and understanding. Phoebe had helped him to plant grapevine and build a trellis to house the plant next to the Dionysus cabin. They'd laughed about movies, and other kids, and the gods beneath these same trees.

And then she could practically feel his breath, hot on her cheek, his hands, rough and violent, shoving her against the jagged bark of these pine trees. She'd screamed at him to stop, and fought against his hungry mouth, and then she finally spat at him, "Go to Hades."

And he had. Quite literally, in fact. The ground swallowed him up right there and then, the hungry maws of the earth closing over Winslow's writhing body and drowning out his terrified screams.

No one knew what had happened then, except for Phoebe and Zoë and the trees.

Those memories were a part of these pine trees now, just like they were a part of her. When pine needles brushed against Phoebe's cheek, she could feel her own delirious and all-consuming horror at what she had done, razor sharp and metallic. When she pushed a branch away from her body, it was her guilt and self-loathing.

Phoebe wanted to hate him. She wanted desperately to be able to say, "Good riddance." She hated that she couldn't say it and hated that she was so weak as to love the one who tried to destroy her.

Phoebe sat down against one of the pine trees, suddenly thinking that the world looked better in the dark. She let the memories roll through her mind, breaking in waves against the shore and creeping out again, reliving her own pain. _What can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment_, Phoebe thought wearily.

There was motion in a tree a couple feet away. She focused her attention to see Ciel, Astor Maguire's messenger eagle. Phoebe scowled- not because she disliked the bird in and of itself, but because it always heralded the approach of the son of Zeus. He believed that since he was a son of the king of the gods, he was just that much holier than thou, and he let everyone know it. He was arrogant, and that was a trait that Zoë couldn't stand. Their arguments were practically legendary, but in all the years that she had known him, they had never tried to avoid each other, never tried to stop fighting.

"What are you doing in here?" asked Astor, his voice loud and obnoxious. Strangely enough, the noise put her back on the ground. The half-blood might be an asshole, but he was an asshole she could handle, quite unlike any other kind.

"Hiding from Apollo," she told him honestly. "I'd watch Aegle around him, _cousin_."

Astor sneered, disliking her use of family names and also knowing that Aegle could take care of herself perfectly well. "I am not my sister's keeper. And you're not really my first cousin. You're my second cousin once removed, and half at that."

"Been giving it a lot of thought, have we, Birdbrain?" snorted Phoebe, using their childhood nicknames.

"As much as you have, my love," he said, flirting carelessly. "And why should you hide from Apollo? You're named after him," retorted Astor, on second thought.

"Wait, _what_?"

"One of his epithets is Phoebus," he told her triumphantly. "The feminine form is Phoebe. So there."

"I was named after Artemis," she replied, "in hopes that I wouldn't date. Also my dad's sister, who died and was a Huntress."

"Huh?"

"Phoebe Bianca di Angelo. And anyway Astor means eagle doesn't it? Maguire meaning 'hill.' Eagle Hill?"

"I knew you were thinking of me!" he said, grinning broadly, only half-feigned.

She sneered, "Hardly. You'd think with a sister being groomed for the Hunt, you'd learn to recognize indifference."

"Oh, you hate me far too much to be completely indifferent," he replied breezily. "Anyways, I didn't see Apollo anywhere. Aren't you coming back to camp?" He offered his arm cheesily.

"No thanks, asshole," she told him amiably. "And I don't hate you."

"No, but you categorize me in roughly the same category as Winslow, and that's quite enough, it seems." His headache was pounding all of a sudden, and he was feeling more than a little reckless. "You're putting a lot of stock in our clever banter, you know. Has it ever occurred to you that you're _not_ witty enough to make me seek you out just for the chat? That I might actually—"

"Want to get in my pants?" she said mercilessly. "Look, you were dating Chloe last summer, and you dumped her just as pitilessly."

He smiled slowly. "Isn't that what you did to _him_? And he killed himself?"

Phoebe froze. Her eyes went coal black, the midnight blue sparks from Eris echoing that darkness. "You have no idea what happened to me that night. You have no idea how much I trusted him."

Nonplussed, Astor continued, "Did _you_ kill him?"

Phoebe considered burying one of her wrist daggers in his throat. She settled for a bone-chilling grin and a crazy tone. "Sometimes, family will step up, even when you don't want them to. Grandfather can be _so_ overprotective," she mocked dramatically, and sashayed off on a path into the forest he didn't know. Hopefully she'd scared him thoroughly enough to make him leave her alone. A part of her regretted what she'd said- she liked the asshole, in his own way, he was friendly and fun to argue with- but he always crossed the line, hammering at her defenses. She would just have to build bigger walls, that was all, she told herself, nearly believing it.

As for the boy, he sat there, more thoughtfully than anyone would ever imagine, brooding on the same tree stump she'd just sat on.

* * *

The silence continued. "Look, Apollo, what do you want?"

"For you to visit me more often!" the sun chariot driver blurted out, all but jumping up and down with excitement. The god was shuddering slightly and his cheeks were flushed with enthusiasm. "I never see you guys! Your dad thinks I'm a bad influence or something. How could anyone think that? I, personally, have no idea. I'm, like, the best grandpa ever, right? Right?"

He wanted them to _visit_? _And no shit, Dad thinks you're a bad influence_, the girl thought, exasperated. _The only time the words 'Apollo' and 'best grandpa ever' should be used in the same sentence is when saying 'Apollo is the opposite of the best grandpa ever.'_

Zoë gaped at him, mouth literally hanging open. Her brain was still too confused to formulate a coherent answer. "Hurrr… Wha—but. Hang on. Hold up. _What_?"

"Come visit me! Y'know, you and Azrael and the other one. What's his name, again?"

"… Leon."

"Oh right, Leon. You three. What the Hades, bring your parents! I mean, if Leo wants to come. And I practically know for a fact that Sholeh wants to visit. She never could resist me, that one..." he sighed wistfully and flipped his hair before continuing. "We can, like, go fishing. And waterskiing. And do all manner of family stuff. I have cookies, you know."

"Cookies?"

"Yeah, I thought kids loved cookies."

"You didn't even know Leon's name," she deadpanned.

"Your point being?"

"Let me get this straight: you want my family, including one member whose name you don't even _remember_, to come _visit_ you so that we can participate in water sports and eat baked goods. On Mount Olympus."

"Well, it doesn't have to be Mount Olympus necessarily, I do have a house in Malibu—"

"You're missing the point!" she said, exasperated. "How do you not realize the complete absurdity of what you're asking—?"

"Well, d'you want me to heal him or not?" the god pouted, hands on hips.

"Yes!" she yelled. In her mind it was, _Yesyesyesyes._

"Do you _promise_?"

"Yes, I freaking promise! We'll all visit you, and follow whatever crazy family bonding plans you have!"

"Well, okay then," Apollo replied happily, and strolled into the cabin. Zoë could hear the gasps and joyful yells of his children before he told them, "Hang on a second kids, no hugs right now, I'm gonna help you all out." And then the door closed and everything was silent while the god of healing worked.

Zoë wanted to collapse from exhaustion, but she spent the next half hour in a state of panic. She waited and waited, until finally Apollo opened the door and sat down next to her on the steps. She couldn't muster the energy to speak, dreading the announcement he could make. She imagined her grandfather pronouncing Joshua dead, saying he was sorry, and played the scene over and over in her mind, too terrified to ask the god what had actually happened.

"Well, congrats, Zoë, you've got yourself one cute boyfriend."

"He's alive?" she yelled and at her grandfather's nod, threw her arms around him.

Apollo laughed raucously. "Please hold your applause. I'm awesome, I know," he replied, "But seriously, the kid's sleeping, so don't, like, wake him up just to make out with him, or anything."

Zoë scoffed and blushed a little, "You know, it really creeps me out that you look like you're the same age as I am. We could pass for brother and sister."

"Well, I don't want to look old," Apollo replied, making a face. "And plus, family is family, screwed up as it may be. Whether you like it or not, Zoë," he finished softly before disappearing in a thick haze of light that wrapped around him like a luxurious blanket, its softness just as tangible as the grass beneath his feet.

She smiled softly, slowly beginning to realize that he was right. Apollo was crazy; there was no doubt about it. And vain, and arrogant, and embarrassing at times. But he also went out of his way to save Joshua, and his only condition, once she thought about it, was to see them more often. He wasn't a bad guy, really, and _was_ one of her better family members. Compared to Hades, Apollo was practically an angel.

And that stupid grin of his was quite endearing, as far as crazy grandfathers go.

Zoë was left in the darkness and moments later, fell asleep, leaning against the cabin door. Her dreams were filled with a brown haired boy in strawberry fields.

* * *

AN: Hooray! Although you guys totally called it and knew Joshua wouldn't die. Pfft, we need some less observant readers. Just kidding. I heart you guys. And Zoshë.

Anyhoo, what does everyone think of Astor? We'd really appreciate your opinions (and reviews, of course)!

Has the confusion stopped? Is everything clear? If you have any questions, feel free to PM!


	9. Must Have Done Something Good

**Must Have Done Something Good**

**By Sister Grimm Erin and music6592**

**A/N: Is this enough Azronia for you guys? Is it too cute-sy? Out of character? Whatever?**

The fifteen-year-old Tonia Chloe Argounovna was very happy to see Azrael Damien Eliot. She always had been.

Whereas others mistrusted the fey boy, and some even feared him, she adored and loved him. She knew intuitively that he'd been very lonely before meeting her. She might not be a fighter, but she knew people, could interpret their body language even if she didn't grasp the spoken language quite as well. And she liked to think that she knew Azrael better than anyone else did.

She remembered the first day they had met, years and years ago. He had just been a fierce little boy with mud splattered over his face and who spoke back to Chiron with a haughty tone. It had been archery practice, and the kids were supposed to get a partner. Somehow been separated from his siblings, Azrael found himself suddenly alone, all the other kids running off with their partners. He and Tonia been placed together, both of them more than a little reluctant. Tonia had recoiled a bit at meeting another five-year-old, and Azrael had been sullen at being put with someone so seemingly terrified of him.

At the end of the awkward day, he'd attacked Chase with a childish war cry, grabbing the boy's leg and stabbing at it with a stick. She'd screeched, "I'm sorry! Don't hurt him!" And held out a peony she'd grown.

He immediately paused. "You didn't do anything," he protested, but clambered up and took the flower. She relaxed immediately.

"I wasn't gonna hurt him," he murmured. "People don't have to be scared of me." He was both ashamed of their preconceptions, and a little perversely proud of it, too.

She looked up at him, accent making her sound like she was mumbling, as always. "I'm not. I think you're cute."

Azrael looked at her in surprise. "Cute?"

"Yah. And your name is an angel." She really was mumbling now.

"The angel of death," he murmured.

"Well in the story..." murmured Tonia abashedly, "the angel of death was the angel of mercy too. He punished the bad guys and spared the good guys."

"That's kinda cool," Azrael said. His pale, fine hand was still gripping the flower. "Is this a rose?"

"Nuh uh, it's a peony."

"I've never heard of a pee-uh-nee before."

"Put it in a book," she told him. "It'll last longer."

"I don't have any. We can't read," he reminded her.

She stuck her tongue out at him, surprising even herself with her sudden boldness. "We can read Ancient Greek. I'll put it in my copy of 'Alpha to Omega.'"

He stepped a little closer to her. She looked him in the eye, quiet courage echoed in those green-grass irises. Brushing a tuft of white-blond hair off her forehead, he gave her a hug.

The little girl had been nestled trustingly against his larger frame, and their ribcages rose with synchronized breaths.

It was innocent and clumsy and yet, when the other kids stare, they felt a little like they were challenging the whole world. They were late for their next classes because they didnt't notice anything but the sublimely blue sky and didn't want to let go of the other's sweaty, childish hand.

Azrael and Tonia had been inseparable ever since that day, and adolescence hadn't changed anything that mattered. Call them lovers or friends or anything, they were there for each other. It wasn't flashy. Just them, together. They didn't need labels or names to it.

And now it was them, together again, after a year spent apart. Tonia noted that his hair was a little longer, and he'd grown even taller, as if his body had been stretched out again. He smelled of fire, his acrid and sweet scent of smoke comforting her.

Dawn was just breaking against Camp Half Blood, and its pink rays caught in the boy's black hair ever so slightly, his eyes dark and deep. Tonia thought for a moment the rising sun cast shadows from his shoulder blades, great, hazy wings, and that Azrael looked like his namesake.

"Hello," she told him, tilting her chin to see him better as she was shaken out of memory and very much in the present. Azrael looked up, relaxing automatically as he never did in the presence of anyone else. Tonia's language was always formal, but that was to be expected when learning English form Chiron.

"Hey," he said, coming closer so they grasped hands. She was a head shorter than him and so thin, he used to worry she'd blow away. He kissed her collarbone, the yellow topaz diamond she never removed stuck to the light sweat on her skin. She touched his peony tattoo in the same place, the crook where his neck arched into the prominent bone, and her necklace swung forward. No one else knew about the black ink flower permanently ingrained on his skin.

She has a garden, which she tends with the other children of Demeter. It is behind their cabin, its walls are crumbling and looks more ancient than the archaic Greek architecture of camp, but inside it is a haven of rough, confused beauty. Any child of Demeter causes wild, unprovoked growth in all flowers, and even Tonia cannot control the untamed flowers. Years ago, Tonia showed Azrael the garden, its nebulous bursts of mimosa blossoms and tumbling veils of jasmine and twisted olive trees and tangled, green grass. In the corner was a small, unassuming patch of peonies. Out of all the sublime, vibrant flowers, he liked the peonies best, and Tonia giggled at that because, out of all the flowers, she thought he was least like a peony. Azrael just frowned, but the first day of camp the next summer, she showed her the tattoo without a word. Tonia's breath caught in her throat with the realization of its meaning, though neither of them have ever given voice to it exactly.

Amid her confused reminiscing, she sensed his nervous mood, and after a sweet moment of kisses like gentle, whispering petals down her neck she asked, "What's wrong, Azrael?" His full name came much easier to her Russian tongue.

"Zoë," he explained. "She's got this mortal boyfriend. He almost died. Mom practically burned down the house when she brought him home, and then we made our daring escape. But the kid got attacked by a Hydra." The boy chuckled softly to himself. "You should have seen his eyes when I told him not to mess with us. He looked like a baby deer in the middle of the highway." More serious, he continued. "But, like, still. He only survived because Zoë called uncle Apollo down from the heavens."

"Oh, gods."

"Yes, it was a _tad_ stressful," he remarked sarcastically, though not unkindly.

Tonia was well-acquainted with Azrael's family, though Zoë had always bemused her. How one single girl could be that loud, in every sense of the word, still surprised her. "I knew she'd fall for someone totally unsuitable and have a big, huge love story while everyone ignored us," Tonia's voice was not resentful, but grateful. She didn't want any attention, any spotlight. She just wanted a future with Azrael, and was quite content to just be with him alone. It was better that way, really.

"Thank the gods," he murmured, echoing her thoughts. "I nearly _strangled_ my uncle Levant for trying to compose that poem about us. Honestly, if you hadn't been there…"

Any mention of violence used to frighten her away. Still conscious of this, he tucked a strand of corn silk hair behind her ear- it still hid her beautiful eyes. But she had grown used to his mannerisms long ago. "I was embarrassed," she admitted, a little bit of suppressed laughter bubbling off like sweet champagne. "The worst part was that it was a good poem." Tonia brought her lips to his in a kiss- she was always more comfortable with body language than with talking. Azrael liked it, never having been much of a talker himself when it came to emotions. Most of the time, he wouldn't stop talking, but any feelings were beyond his powers of communication. He would have failed to describe how he felt, so he just kissed her back.

"You're beautiful, Tonia," he said when they broke off, his voice as husky as hers could sound.

She smiled up at him, with a depth of trust that dizzied him still. "You're my angel."

"Not really," he said with a small frown. "Though if anyone could make me into one, you could," he whispered in her ear. She delighted in his breath tickling her senses.

They went off to a quiet place in the meadow, and reunited in a glorious, unhurried away. The flowers kept their secrets.

"_If anyone can make me a better person you could/All I gotta say is I must've done something good/I came along one day and you rearranged my life/All I gotta say is I must've done something right/I must've done something right..._"- Relient K.

XXX


	10. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Music for this chapter: **

**Red Eyes and Tears - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club**

**Henrietta - The Fratellis**

_A/N from SisterGrimmErin: We love you all, especially when you review. Here's Joshua, back in his own adorable, dorky style. My co-writer had the chapter end with him fainting, but I felt he deserved a chance to redeem himself. Also, here's yet another new romance, which we swear is important to the plot. _

_Warning: We're feeling this story verve into PG-13 territory, just in case you're under 12. There won't be any sex scenes, but there will be implications thereof... anyways, hope that didn't scare anyone away. If you can watch, say, Legally Blonde or The Princess Bride, you can read this. Promise. And this chapter is pretty much on the same level as the others, just in the future._

_And Azrael is back with his wise cracks. I must say he's my favorite character. Though Joshua is lovable too._

_A/N from music: Hey all! We've just got some quick revised information about the characters' ages. Zoe and Joshua: 17. Astor: 17, Phoebe: 16. Chase: 15. Minerva: 15. Aegle: 14. Leon: 13. Just to prevent confusion in future chapters.  
_

_Information about the next chapter at the bottom!_

_Anyway, without further ado... we give you..._

**UNCHAINED MELODY**

**Chapter 9: Down the Rabbit Hole**

**By SisterGrimmErin and music5692**

He could feel the light on his skin. He could feel the warmth, but even more so, he could feel its weightless, trembling fingers upon his eyelids, feel the actual minute pressure of the light. Joshua felt, in those moments between sleep and waking, that he was in a strange, heady, intoxicating limbo. There was the confusing light, for one. And an uncomfortably warm, humid breeze grazed his cheek. And Joshua could smell the rousing, inexplicably exotic smell of strawberries.

"Joshua… Joshua... Please wake up. Please?"

The voice was sympathetic, and worried, and yet slightly garbled to his ears. Joshua liked the voice, and tried to speak, but could only manage a "Mmmmgggufff."

"Hey, the mortal made a noise!" This was a different, deeper voice, and Joshua was sure he'd heard it before. _Somewhere._

"Chase, Joshua has a name, for godssake. Would it kill you to use it?" This was the first person speaking again. Now Joshua knew that he'd met these people before. If he could just _see_ them. But everything was so damned dark.

"Yeah, it would."

Joshua heard the muffled sound of a punch, and then swearing. "C'mon, Joshua, please just say something. For me?"

_If I only knew who you are_, the boy thought desperately. He managed another groan, this time deeper in his throat, and came out sounding like a feral "Grrrrrr…."

"Oh, I think he likes _that_," someone else (a girl, Joshua guessed) said teasingly. "Rawr. Talk to him some more, Zoë."

_Zoë!_ Everything came back in a rush: the mysterious girl, lunch in the school cafeteria, Central Park, intoxicating music, her house, their escape, and then he remembered only the pain. Joshua could practically feel the burning, searing, aching once more. Pure, undiluted. But he knew himself to be miraculously fine now; he felt himself, in a word, complete.

Well, except for the fact that he couldn't see anything.

Joshua struggled, with labor disproportionate to the task, to open his lips and speak. First there was just more gargles and moans, but then he finally forced his unwilling, leaden mouth to form coherent words and said, "Zoë?"

There was a squeal of glee and Joshua felt her hand, so warm, upon his. "Are you okay? Are you in pain? Oh my gods, Joshua, you're alive!"

"Well, miracle of all miracles," came a sarcastic, deadpan voice from the corner. Joshua recognized it almost immediately- Azrael.

Ignoring Zoë's brother, Joshua mumbled slowly, "I'm fine. Only wait—" Panic rose in his chest like stomach bile. Everything was so dark, and terrible nothingness was all around, engulfing him. He couldn't see Zoë, or her brother, or the other kids. He couldn't see where he was.

"I can't see anything. Why can't I see anything? It's all dark!" Joshua was hyperventilating like a dog on a hot summer day. "Oh God, am I blind?"

"Joshua, no, it's just—" Zoë frantically grasped his hand, trying to calm down his labored, furious panting.

"I'm blind, aren't I? Oh my God, I'm blind. I'm never gonna see again, and I'll have to get one of those seeing eye dogs and it'll have to lead me around, holy mother of—"

"Here, kid. I've got this really revolutionary idea," Azrael said, his voice a combination of smugness and exasperation. "How about you _open your eyes_?"

"…"

"Oh. Oh. Uh, thanks." Joshua's eyes shot open. He saw first the pristine white ceiling, then Zoë's wide, furiously blinking eyes. There was silence as they stared at each other, Joshua's gaze searching across the girl's raised eyebrows, her tanned skin, the tiny pebble like freckles, her blue irises swirling with a fierce note of green, her curved mouth. Suddenly then they were embracing desperately, and Zoë's impassioned hug pinned his arms to the sides of his body, and Joshua gasped softly, the air knocked out of him.

"Sheesh, get a room, you guys," Azrael remarked snidely. Chase chuckled in a low tone at the comment.

"Well, you know what, Azrael?" Zoë spun around savagely. Joshua heard his back crack at the suddenness of her jerking movement, and felt a twang of pain. "We have a room, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out why the entire peanut gallery insists on being in it," she finished, gesturing to the other demigods.

Joshua appraised the rest of them for the first time since he had woken up. There was Azrael of course, leaning against the doorframe. Next to him stood a tiny girl Joshua had never seen before. She had mahogany hair, lightly browned skin and amiable, though shy, green eyes. She looked disproportionately skinny and young beside the tall Azrael. Chase stood a few feet away, next to Minerva. Both twins were staring at him intently, as though he were a new species of animal to be studied. Leon sat on the ground near Minerva, although at a safe distance, too timid to move closer. Phoebe, her dark eyes flashing as usual with indecipherable emotion, had her arms crossed and sat backwards on a chair by an open window.

"Alright, alright, we get it," Phoebe replied casually. "C'mon, peanut gallery, we got other shit to do." She stood up in one fluid motion and sauntered out, gesturing for the other demigods to follow.

The rest shrugged indifferently and left. Azrael gave an indignant "humph" but put his arm around the small girl and exited the room, though not without slamming the door. Zoë sighed and sat down heavily on the bed.

The mortal boy scanned the room. It seemed like a makeshift hospital room. Five cots with white sheets occupied much of the space, and light danced through a large picture window to his right. There was a desk with a few surgical tools, but mostly there just seemed to be a lot of bottles of a strange, golden liquid. Joshua frowned in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together.

Zoë followed his gaze and said simply, "Ambrosia. Drink of the gods. It'll cure pretty much any wound."

"Is that how you healed me?" he asked inquisitively. The wonders of this new world didn't seem to ever cease.

"No, since only demigods and gods can drink it. It would've killed you." Zoë cradled her head in her hands, relief making her knees weaker with every word the boy spoke. He was well and truly safe, thank the gods. _Well, thank one god in particular_, she thought with a smile.

"Then how did you…?" he trailed off. Whatever that thing was that bit him, it wasn't anything he'd ever seen before. Joshua had just seen a glimmer of green scales and sharp teeth, and then all there had been was pain and Zoë's arms.

"I, uh, called my grandpa. He healed you."

"Sorry, but who's your grandpa again? The Olympian family tree is confusing me a little."

"Apollo. He didn't drive the sports car, thank the gods. That would have been _so_ embarrassing."

"Sports car?" Joshua asked, with a blank look. He was beginning to think all the questions were useless and he should just try to absorb information. It was like he'd been dropped into the middle of a storybook without any warning and without having read the first half of the tale.

"Usually it's a red Maserati. But, like, one time when he needed it to be a van since me and Azrael and Leon needed to get home, it was a van. It's not really a car, though, it's technically the sun, but the chariot just got outdated."

Joshua stared blankly at the girl. "I'm not making any sense, am I?" Zoë asked with a soft smile.

"Not really. I mean, you're doing a great job explaining and all, I'm just having trouble processing the information. It's all getting stuck in my brain, sort of." Joshua grinned back at her and sat up farther on the pillow until their faces were level.

"Don't worry, it'll get easier with time. And Chiron can probably do a better job explaining. So, uh, how'd you like the family?"

There was an uncomfortable silence as Joshua tried to think of something to say. _How to put this lightly, _he thought, _Well, your mom is a goddess who lights on fire and turns into a sixteen year old when she gets angry. Your dad is pretty cool, actually, but he was once dead and is now immortal... Your brother threatened me with painful death. Oh, I just love them. 'I think we'll get along great' just didn't seem to fit very well._

But at the same time, her family was a large part of Zoë. The sarcasm, for instance, seemed to be a defining characteristic of the Eliot family. The unpredictability and passion and utter insanity were all inherited traits, Joshua could tell. And these were all simultaneously the reasons why he loved Zoë.

"Um, they're interesting," he said with a cautious smile.

"And by 'interesting' you mean psychopathic and crazy," Zoë replied flatly.

"No! Well, yeah, I sorta do. They are kind of crazy. But that's okay, I mean, I like them."

Zoë stared at Joshua, perplexed. He should be freaking out, or trying to run away. "My mom didn't completely scare you away?"

With a mischievous smirk, Joshua said, "Not yet."

The girl nodded seriously, her eyes thoughtful and trained on Joshua. "Okay. I mean, she's okay once you get to know her. And when she's not furiously angry and screaming, or anything. It's just… I don't know."

"What?" Joshua asked softly. He could feel his hand getting a light sheen of sweat from having her abnormally warm one on his.

Zoë looked away, out the window. "It's just tough, you know. Because I know that I'm never, ever, going to measure up to her. And that scares me sometimes."

"Why do you say that? Of course you will. I mean, you're really funny and pretty and a great fighter, I guess. From what I've seen in the past two days we've known each other."

"Four days," she corrected lightly. "You've been sleeping for the past two. Anyway, it's kind of hard to explain. But you know, when my mom was fifteen, she destroyed the evil Titan, Kronos, the Lord of Time, who had an entire army of monsters behind him. And less than a year later, she rescued my dad from Hades. No one, in the history of the world, has ever done that before. Not even Orpheus could do it. And then, she was made a goddess and got my dad to be made immortal. All of this, by age sixteen. And I'm seventeen and a half, Joshua. And sure, I'm good at fighting, but I've never done anything like that. Azrael is better at controlling fire, and Leon is artistic. I'm just… here."

"Zoë, that's not… I mean, you'll do even better stuff, I can tell."

"D'you know they tell their story at the campfires? My mom and dad's story. Like, the most popular stories are the Iliad, the Odyssey, sometimes the Aenid, and then their story. It's just… daunting."

"That's gotta be weird."

She was still staring out the window. "Yeah, it sure as Hades is. I dunno, Joshua. Now I've got a quest. I've been praying for a quest since I was five. Praying that I could get one and succeed and prove myself, or something. But I'm just not sure. I just don't know."

"Hey, no, you're gonna be great. I promise, everything is going to be fine. It's all going to be fine," he said, repeating himself faithfully, chanting as if in prayer. Joshua didn't really know what he was saying, but he clutched her hand tighter and rubbed it gently.

He was falling further and further into her world, and surprisingly the mysteries were only lengthening, questions expanding, and Joshua had so few answers.

Standing up abruptly, Zoë crossed the room with long, neat strides. She grabbed the doorknob and looked back at him, grinning out of the left side of her mouth, roguish smirk twisting itself on her lips. "You wanna see the camp?" the girl asked.

* * *

Leon leaned against a tree, halfheartedly clutching its branches. He can hear the sea not too far away, its peaceful repetitive _swish_ putting him on edge. He hated the ocean, despised its whispered sounds. All those thousands of miles of nothingness, deep blue expanses, leagues below full of fish and rotting ships and gods-know-what-else.

Leon had gone swimming in Montauk once. Just once, in the two years his family had lived there with the Jacksons. Truthfully, it hadn't really been swimming, since he'd been clinging desperately to an inflatable plastic raft, but it had been the most terrifying experience of his short life. The current had pulled the boy out until he hadn't even been able to see the shoreline, and then he'd been all alone, floating in a body of azure nothingness. Leon had sobbed from the paralyzing fear, because if he was all alone, what was there to prove that he existed? The sea had mocked him with its constant, interminable _swish_, taunting him with whispers that he didn't even constitute a drop in the galaxy, that his matter and form was entirely negligible.

By the time Uncle Percy had brought him back half an hour later, Leon had convinced himself that the sea was a great alien mass. And alien things terrified him, but Leon knew someone who loved the sea, with all its ceaseless nothing. And so he made his cautious way down to the sand, his small frame ducking around tree branches.

He caught sight of the girl and jogged towards her, his steps made awkward and fumbling by the shifting sand.

"Hi," Leon panted, sitting down beside Minerva. She looked up from her book and smiled, encouraging.

"Hi."

"What're you doing?"

"Reading."

"Oh. Aren't you hot out here in the sun?" Leon asked, secretly praying for a 'yes' so they could go inside, away from the jellyfish and salt water.

"Not really."

"Oh, okay."

Minerva abruptly put the tattered novel down in the sand. "I've been thinking. Chiron said that mortals are fighting against us. _Mortals_. What could these quests possibly be about?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe to find their plans, or weaknesses, or something," he said quietly.

"I think you're right," the girl announced. Leon felt his face flush with excitement. "Well, I guess we'll find out everything tomorrow when Chiron tells us."

"Yeah." Suddenly, Minerva leaned her head on Leon's shoulder, a gesture of friendship on her part, and a gesture of so much more on his. She continued talking about the quests, but Leon didn't hear any of it. The rest didn't really matter so much.

* * *

Everything was so bright. The people, the buildings, the trees, the very air all seemed so teeming with life, it simultaneously hurt and caressed his senses. Joshua felt the world spinning around him, filled with such rough, confused beauty he felt as if there were alcohol in his system. You could tell that everything was different, stranger and more terrible, far above and below the norm. Zoë was grasping his hand tightly and laughing, towing him along. She met his eyes with a magnetic smile, green freckles in her eyes glinting.

"—And over here's the Dionysus cabin, and next to that, in a row, see, are the Aphrodite, Artemis, Athena and Demeter cabins. And then across from those, from closest to farthest, are the Hermes, Hephaestus, Apollo, Ares, and Poseidon cabins. And those two you see at the end, that are all marble and majestic and stuff, those are the Hera and Zeus cabins, see, 'cause they're the king and queen. And then the black obsidian one to our right, that's the Hades cabin."

"Okay," Joshua said, overwhelmed and, strangely enough, loving the confusion, though his head spun with all the burning images and insistent smells and crazy people.

"Me and Azrael and Leon and Phoebe stay in Hades cabin most of the time. My parents built it just like twenty years ago, when they were here. 'Cept sometimes me and my brothers stay in Apollo cabin, since technically we can stay there too."

Each cabin was decorated in the style of the commanding god, Joshua could see that. Poseidon cabin was blue with wave decorations, and Ares cabin was covered in spears and cannons, and the Apollo cabin was shining and golden. The mortal knew enough about the Greek gods from his history classes back home to be able to see that much.

And suddenly it struck him. Home was far, far away and Joshua was literally in another world. The adrenalin pumping through his veins made him feel like he was standing at the edge of a tall, high cliff and Zoë was smiling at him, in that seductive way, urging him to jump.

It was terrifying and insane and empowering and strangely liberating.

_This'll be one to tell the kids back home_, he thought, grinning, and then Zoë was pulling him along again. Demigods of every size and shape and color stared at him inquisitively, their different gazes all begging the same question: "Who's _that kid_?"

Zoë called out to a couple of them affectionately, high-fiving a couple blond girls who looked vaguely like her and rustling the hair of a teenage boy with dark eyes. Joshua saw the way the other boy looked at her and the mortal felt jealous and even vaguely proud.

"Okay, over there's the climbing wall and practice arena," Zoë continued, her every motion bubbly and overflowing with happiness. _And to think she was just so depressed and doubting about her parents_, the boy thought.

Joshua turned his gaze from his girlfriend to a huge stone wall around a hundred feet away. And on the other side there appeared to be a bubbling, red-brown viscous liquid with heat waves rising off it… lava? Joshua was shocked and couldn't help but smile. A coliseum-like building was erected not far off, and he caught sight of a couple kids sparring with real swords and gladiator armor that gleamed brightly in the sun.

Joshua and Zoë passed Phoebe once, and the other girl winked sneakily at them. And then Zoë was pulling him away once more, toward a large house with white shingles and black shutters.

"There's the Big House," the girl explained, leaning on Joshua a little. "That's where Chiron and Mr. D stay."

"Who?"

"Mr. D is the camp director on paper, but Chiron is the one who really runs everything. Oh, and I should probably warn you. The 'D' stands for Dionysus."

"As in the god?" Joshua gulped.

"Yep. He hates kids. We hate him right back."

"Okay," the boy replied, thinking it was a little weird to be the director of a summer camp if you hated children.

"Well, look who we have here," Azrael said from behind Zoë and Joshua. The mortal boy jumped a little at the surprise, but Zoë just glared at her brother coolly.

Suddenly, a big white horse opened the door of the Big House. And opened in the literal sense of the word, as in 'opened by means of opposable thumbs' because it wasn't really a horse at all. The torso, head and arms of a man grew straight out of the body of a horse, and the strange mix of creatures had a certain ancient grace about it. Joshua rubbed his eyes disbelievingly. The centaur caught sight of Zoë and frowned slightly before cantering up to the two of them.

_This isn't happening_, Joshua thought. _This isn't possible_. The horse-man approached Joshua cautiously as if he were sizing the boy up as a potential enemy, but with palms up in a gesture of peace.

Chiron finally sighed and, rubbing his temples, said, "Hello, Zoë. Who is this?"

But unfortunately, Joshua's brain couldn't process the shock of seeing so many strange, brave new things at once. Chiron the centaur was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

The mortal boy fainted dead away, falling onto the grass with a _thump_, all conscious thought fading into dreams of divinity.

Azrael shook his head slowly, a little patronizing. "Guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship," he remarked with a smirk.

* * *

Fortunately, this time Joshua woke up fairly quickly. "Hey, Zoë, maybe you should kiss him!" suggested someone brightly. That got him up. For a kiss with Zoë, he wanted to be conscious.

Unfortunately, it was Chase who helped him up. "All right, let's get him inside before a naiad starts luring him into a lake or something," said the black-haired boy, pulling Joshua to his feet. There were nods of general agreement, except from Zoë, who looked upon him worriedly.

That angered him a little. He didn't want her to worry. He wanted to fit in, like he never had, wanted to twist himself into a pleasing shape for this world, but it seemed even more impossible with each new impossibility.

"Well," said Chiron, "it seems you did not think to warn him about my appearance before taking him up to meet me, Zoë."

The girl flushed a little in chagrin. "Chiron, this is Joshua Sterling Dare."

Joshua, even more red, managed a halfhearted hand-wave. "You're Rachel's son?" asked Chiron with surprise.

"Yes," Joshua said, wondering how the hell- _Hades_- his mom had gotten on a first-name basis with a _half-horse_.

"Well, it's been a while since we've had a mortal here, so forgive us for our manners. Let's come inside, and please be polite to Mr. D." Chiron cast a worried glance at Dionysus. Azrael shrugged and began walking up the steps

Following up side-by-side with Chiron to a white farmhouse, the wine god barely looked up as they passed him. Those violet eyes seemed to glare at Joshua and Zoë for a moment, then he went back to his Diet Coke, sulking in the shadows of the porch.

"Now, how much does this mortal know? And why is he god-marked by Aphrodite?" asked Chiron.

"...Aphrodite?" exclaimed everybody but Joshua in alarm.

As for the mortal in question, he raised his hand uncomfortably. Chiron automatically motioned for him.

"The goddess of love?" Joshua said. Azrael smothered a snort. Tonia half-glared at him, like '_cut the poor kid some slack_.' Surprisingly, Azrael quieted and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Tonia rested her head on his shoulder. Joshua watched the exchange with some shock- the idea of Azrael being gentle towards anyone, particularly the fragile flower that was Tonia, shocked him.

"And the one that temporarily killed our dad, yes," added in Azrael sarcastically.

"Oh," Joshua said lamely, trying to imagine that. Zoë's frantic grip on his arm brought him back to the present.

"I think," Chiron said clearly, "Aphrodite had planned to get you two together."

Zoë blinked. "But if that's true, why didn't we meet before?"

"It may have been Joshua's mother's protection. The precautions she took on my advice to keep her son from this world were no small matter."

"What precautions?" said Joshua confusedly.

Chiron looked at Joshua with pity. "Joshua, you're only nearsighted because your mother had laser surgery done on you. It's why you haven't seen monsters before. Naturally, you were far-sighted."

The rest of the kids blinked. _Poor kid_, mused Chase. _His mom must really hate the gods_.

Joshua's mouth opened and closed. His mother had medically handicapped him at birth? Just to keep him from seeing the world as it was? How much of the mediocrity and frustration that had plagued him all his remembered life had been her fault?

"So why can he see everything now?" Zoë asked.

"My dad took me to get new lenses," Joshua remembered.

Chiron looked up with some surprise. "All right. I think the missions the Oracle requires will be mostly scouting missions, discovering the purpose of the mortals and whether they can be reasoned with or perhaps trying to find allies among the Babylonians."

"The Babylonians?" blinked Minerva. "Their gods aren't around, are they?"

"No, not since they were conquered by the Romans," assured Chiron. "But the people have an ancient magic, drawn from the earth. Things hidden from us may be clear to them. Also, the locals will have knowledge of the mortal's purpose. They are a sort of go-between. The Babylonians have always been, historically, more connected to the mortal world than we have."

"When do we leave?" asked Zoë. "I mean, when are the Hunters coming?"

"In three and a half weeks, on their new lieutenant's birthday." Whoever the Hunters were, the knowledge of their visit seemed to make Chase's eyes narrow unhappily. And here Joshua had thought the boy unflappable.

"I suggest you all get training after lunch. Lord Apollo said you'd be fine once you'd woken up, Joshua, but I'd rather you abstained from practice for today," said Chiron.

"We'll show him the ropes, Chiron," Zoë said obediently. The other demigods left the Big House and sprinted down towards dazzling sunlight. But Zoë stopped to keep pace with him, smiling a white grin at him.

Joshua knew he'd landed into Wonderland, but he was luckier than Alice.

He had a guide.

* * *

At lunch, Joshua would have been unsure of where to sit had Zoë not pulled him toward the Apollo table. Phoebe sighed and went to sit with Leon at the Hades table, while Azrael inexplicably chose the Apollo table, looking very out of place among all the golden-haired boys and girls. Of course, Azrael would have looked out of place in many places. Zoë's beauty helped her blend in the mortal world- Azrael was attractive enough (not that Joshua went that way), but his general aura of malice would put most mortal girls off him immediately. Joshua was wondering how two siblings could be so very different when he saw Zoë's head turn towards the Hades table. His eyes followed.

A black-haired boy with blue eyes that crackled like thunder was asking Phoebe something. "Who is that?" asked Joshua in what he hoped was a quiet voice.

"Astor Griffin Maguire, son of Zeus," replied Zoë quietly. Joshua supposed that it was as normal a name as you could hope for in this place, and chose to digest the 'son of Zeus' bit for later. Take it as it rolled.

At any rate, Phoebe was angry, her chin jutting out and hands flailing wildly as she talked to the son of Zeus. "Who are Phoebe's grandparents?" Joshua asked, not remembering the Greek myth family tree in the least but recalling that Phoebe's dad was Zoë's mom's half-brother... _and if that isn't confusing_.

"Hades, Lord of the Dead, and Eris, Goddess of Chaos and Discord, Harbinger of the Trojan War."

Joshua didn't find it hard to believe that another war was about to start as Phoebe's voice, audible from halfway across the dining hall, shouted: "Just because of your stupid dad you think you can have any girl you want!"

"Just because of your stupid grandfather you think you can kill whoever you want!" snapped Astor hastily back.

There was a deafening silence in the cafeteria. The Dionysus cabin was glaring murderously at Phoebe, but the Hermes kids and some dryads by the wall appeared to be very angry with Astor.

"Don't talk to her that way," said Zoë, getting up angrily. Joshua was torn between tugging her down and letting her help her friend.

Phoebe snapped back, "I can handle him."

Meanwhile, Joshua was wondering why the hell- _Hades_- no adults were stopping this, but he happened to glance at Mr. D. The man was looking at Phoebe with real malevolence, as though restraining himself from something. Chiron did not appear to be in the room.

Phoebe took out a sword. The design was simple, lacking the shape of a cross, and reminding Joshua of a Spartan short sword like in the movies. It was strong and built for close contact. With the glare in her eyes right now, Joshua was willing to bet she was almost as lethal.

Zoë was concerned now, Joshua could feel it. "Are they going to kill each other?" asked Joshua hushed.

"Naw," said Azrael dismissedly, though his eyes were tense. "We can only break them apart if anyone is about to suffer permanent damage."

Joshua was still confused. Zoë whispered, "It's an archaic honor thing." Joshua nodded, trying to reconcile that with two modern-day teenagers in a summer camp dining hall.

Astor, for his part, took out a Swiss Army Knife that morphed into a Roman golden-eagle sword. _Do demigods go armed everywhere? So far we've got school and lunch and summer camp. Does this include the shower?_ An image of Zoë in the shower came to him completely unbidden. _Stop right there, Azrael probably has some freaky mind-reading ability no one's told you about_, Joshua told himself, and dragged his attention back to the fight. Astor was waiting for Phoebe to make the first move.

She wasn't going to make it.

After a long pause, Astor turned and struck at random, aiming for a disarm.

No such luck. Phoebe turned behind him and lazily blocked his blow.

Their weapons clashed again and again, neither seeming to gain an advantage until Astor tried to put the weight of his sword against hers.

Phoebe immediately drew the sword out of his grip and twisted away from the strike. Astor was playing strong; Phoebe was playing smart.

Finally, Astor spoke. "So, what, did you freeze him to death?"

She tensed, but he opened to her distracted left. Now the real thing began as she sprung away from his grip, looking for an opening. Circling him faster than he could reach, Astor's blade grazed her shoulder briefly but just as that was about to happen, Phoebe took her free hand and wrestled the sword out of his grip.

Astor's mighty sword clattered to the ground.

Suddenly, someone from the Dionysus table spoke. "What more proof do we need? If she can outmatch him, our best fighter," the violet-eyed boy brashly continued, "there's no question she killed Winslow." Zoë restrained laughter at the thought of Astor as their best fighter. Azrael did likewise. Joshua just watched it all like a Ping-Pong match.

An angry girl with chlorophyll green eyes shot back, "Shut up, Calix. If anyone killed your brother, it was his own stupidity. The only reason I don't tell you _how_ stupid he was is that I do not disrespect those killed near my roots."

Calix shot back, "You could be covering for her." The dryad opened her mouth to speak, but the half-blood was forced to sit down by a sibling.

A long, resounding silence stretched, which not even the Aphrodite cabin broke.

Mr. D.'s eyes were almost sad as he gazed upon his son. But the wine god then bellowed, "This is a lunchroom not a battlefield! Why are you all so quiet? Go eat outside!"

As he was saying this, Mr. D. half-beckoned Calix to him as the entire room filed out, trays in hand.

"How's that for some lunchtime entertainment?" remarked Zoë brightly as they exited the dining hall.

Joshua could only nod, thoroughly down the rabbit hole and thoroughly entrenched in Wonderland.

And somehow, he had the feeling he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Just as this happened, an arrow zinged narrowly past his head as they walked past the archery range. He ducked, but looked up to see a girl who looked a lot like Astor smiling joyfully.

"What is it?" he asked her, unable to be rude.

"I got the exact angle of your head to the tree correct!" said the girl, in the tone one would announce world peace in.

"Aegle," said Zoë dangerously.

"Yah?" said Aegle, leaning down to get another arrow.

"If you must shoot at random passerby, try and tag Calix for me."

The daughter of Zeus nodded happily.

"And in the future, don't throw things at my boyfriend. Only my immediate family is allowed to, and that's on a case-by-case basis."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Some more information on the prophecy, Chase gets in a lot of trouble with some very powerful people, and Joshua shoots for the moon... sort of. XD**


	11. PuzzlingProclamationsProvokePandemonium

A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry about the wait. And about the title being all one word- it wouldn't fit with spaces. Hope you weren't too confused about that!

* * *

**UNCHAINED MELODY**

**Chapter 11:**

**Puzzling Proclamations Provoke Pandemonium**

**By Sister Grimm Erin and music5692**

"You cannot convince me, Chase," Aegle told him. "What makes you think you're any better than Callistus Beckendorf? He's certainly prettier than you," smirked the twelve-year-old, referring to the grandson of Aphrodite and Hephaestus, one of her other suitors. Aegle was just as arrogant as her brother, but Astor was a leader- she was a loner. That aura of femininity she possessed was worn confidently. _I know you want me, and I couldn't care less._

And damn it, in his case, she was right. Chase nearly clenched his fists as she smiled smugly, knowing she got under his famously impenetrable skin and inflamed his cool temper. Thalia's younger half-sister and protégé had inherited her single mother's curls and porcelain-doll looks, but her coloring was entirely Zeus, as were the fingerless gloves that turned into brass, electricity-conducting knuckles when she was angry.

Where Astor was cool and ready to banter, Aegle was flash and fire. She was like a lightning rod, and she drew boys to her as sure as her father drew women.

But Chase was patient, and he knew what he wanted. "Three reasons," he said. "One, most Hunters join after they learn how bad men are. You just think we're bad without even giving us a chance. And some of us-," here he zeroed in on that doll mouth he'd wanted to kiss since he was nine years old, "are bad. But you have no proof. Nothing to stand on. No reasons to be such a sexist pig. Thalia, Zoë Nightshade- they all had learned. You're just spewing out what you've been taught. And you're way too good for that." She drew in a breath, too enraged to speak. "Second, you've never been anything but a Hunter-in-training. Ever wondered what's out there besides them and your wannabe-Hercules of a brother? Three- I'm arrogant and I do innately know that Athena and Poseidon would beat up Aphrodite and Hephaestus like there was no tomorrow."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but lightning didn't strike him dead, so he figured an apology would suffice. "He may be prettier, but I can make the earth move-," which was an exaggeration. Chase might possess a minor amount of telekinesis and decent earth-connection, but Mt. St. Helens he left to his dad, though it sounded good- "and I'm smarter. C'mon. Who better to make some waves with?" There was that fun smile and the glint in his eye. Nice pun, Chase, he told himself, oh yeah.

"So what do you want from me, Chase Dylan?" Aegle sighed. She was trying to be cool, but the boy thought he saw the faintest spark of interest there. As reckless as his father, he gambled.

"Kiss me." He waited for her to come to him.

Surprise of surprises, she took a step forward, her fingers hesitantly tracing the outline of his lips. Her eyes were unreadable, blank. Not waiting for another moment, he kissed her.

And then he was violently shoved away, and Aegle slapped him, hard, across his right cheek. The girl was quivering with anger, sparks of electricity bursting violent from her hands. "Don't ever…. Don't you ever do that. Ever again." Her lips were red and a little swollen.

Chase covered the red mark with a hand, looking truly hurt beneath his cheeky grin. "You liked it. I know you did."

Aegle nearly screamed in frustration and was shaking slightly. He just wouldn't go away. "Why on earth would I slap you if I liked it?"

Chase shrugged. "Beats me. Denial, most likely. Your pride is getting in the way of admitting what you really want."

The girl groaned out loud this time, and resisted the urge to unsheathe a dagger. "The only thing I want," she said decisively, eyes flashing, "is to be a Hunter and never have to associate with you again."

Chase felt a tiny shock run through him. She'd insulted him so many times, in so many different ways. He should be used to it by now. He thought he was used to it. And yet, this time it wasn't the same. For the first time, Chase Jackson's cool-headed optimism began to falter and he began to consider the possibility that every time Aegle had said she hated him, maybe she had meant every word.

The boy sighed softly, eyes betraying his distress. But he decided that now was the time to cut his losses, so he replied, in a slow, calm tone, "If that's the way you feel."

He turned on his heel and began to walk away. He was walking away! Aegle was shocked. Chase had never, ever given up on her before. She had made fun of him, physically hurt him, and refused to speak to him. Through everything, Chase had remained, like a loyal pet dog. And he was just… surrendering? Was she not worth the wait? Now Aegle was angry and disappointed and feeling more than a little bit reckless. Even at his most annoying, Chase was always there, like the unchanging ocean. And maybe she _was_ in denial, Aegle realized with a jolt, because she had never admitted that she would hate to lose him.

"Wait!" she called.

Chase spun around to find the daughter of Zeus staring at him balefully.

"Teach me," Aegle said.

"Teach you what?"

"What I want. I… I don't really know."

The lesson was worth it.

* * *

Over the next week, Joshua amazingly found himself getting into a vague sort of routine at the camp. The mornings he spent in Hades cabin, usually with Zoë or Azrael, but sometimes with Phoebe and Leon. After lunch, he went to archery training with Zoë and Azrael, and then he ate dinner, barely staying awake from exhaustion, finally collapsing into bed. People would stare at him, making Joshua a little uncomfortable, but he eventually got used to it. In the meantime, the mortal observed the demigods' daily lives. Half-bloods fought and played practical jokes on each other and laughed and played games. But most of all, they fought.

Joshua had been totally unprepared for the awesome power that demigods wielded so casually. Phoebe against Astor had been impressive enough. But when the demigods started working in tandem, it was incredible.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for his archery skills. They were, in a word, dismal.

Zoë drove him harder and harder, as did Azrael. Joshua's aim improved greatly, but there was only so much he could do against the descendants of Apollo. Undaunted, his teachers moved onto moving targets.

"You see that branch waving in the wind?" asked Zoë on a particularly breezy day. Joshua nodded.

"Hit it," she told him. Joshua aimed his crossbow and, miraculously, his arrow flew true, but it was at that moment something very unfortunate happened.

A silver haired, young girl appeared suddenly in front of his trajectory. The arrow went clean through the bone with a sickening crunch.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, little girl!" cried Joshua. He could see a liquid begin to seep from the wound, but didn't notice that it was gold, not red. "Are you okay?" He rushed over frantically, trying to inspect the wound, but the 'little girl' promptly pulled the arrow out, without a hint of pain. Joshua gaped in horror as the injury began to heal before his eyes, the skin cells sewing themselves back together.

"Leave me be, mortal," said the girl condescendingly, as if Joshua were dirt to her, and looked upon him with those old eyes. Joshua flinched as ancient silver power radiated from her form.

Zoë was there in a flash, dragging Joshua away from that amber-eyed gaze. "Lady Artemis, he meant no disrespect," assured Zoë, worriedly.

Artemis' eyes flicked up and down the two. She glanced at their entwined hands with disdain, and then walked to Aegle. Aegle walked hesitantly up, eyes downcast. Artemis gripped the girl's chin, smiling fondly.

The smile froze off the goddess' face as she stared into her former protégé's eyes.

"I thought better of you than that, daughter of Zeus," snapped Artemis.

"My Lady?" Aegle asked hesitantly, dreading what was coming.

"I thought better of you than to spread your legs for any grandson of Poseidon that came along. I thought you understood. I thought your hesitation was only for the wish to say good-bye. Now, Aegle-," here the girl was biting back tears- "I say good-bye." The goddess moved her hand as though to strike the daughter of Zeus.

But then Chase stepped into the archery range. "Get the Hades away from her," growled Percy's son, fists clenched.

Artemis turned away from her former supplicant. "You had no right."

"You have no right to act as though you're better than her," bit off Chase. "Orion, Apollo, Callisto, Zoë Nightshade- who is it now?"

The goddess froze. Chase glared defiantly back in the face of such divine anger.

After a pause loaded with tension, Artemis strode out in grand goddess style, knuckles clenched white along her bow.

Once she got into the trees, white light radiated through the forest. Everyone closed their eyes as the goddess vanished, leaving them with a sobbing Aegle, a stupefied Azrael, a gaping Leon, and a silent, stunned camp.

Zoë had the presence of mind to lead Aegle gently off toward the Zeus cabin. Chase looked torn between following and avoiding the awkward situation to follow, but Phoebe, Minerva, and Tonia had joined Zoë and the daughter of Zeus. Nico's daughter shot a glare backwards, leaving the boys dejectedly behind.

An awkward silence followed.

"You. Slept. With. Aegle," said Leon, blankly.

"Um..." Chase flushed a little.

"I think we determined that somehow," said Azrael dryly. "Since there aren't that many other 'grandsons of Poseidon' around this place, and giving his chivalrous telling off of Artemis."

Joshua coughed. "What's going on?" He said, uncomfortable as their eyes pivoted towards him.

Azrael sighed. "Aegle was in line to become a maiden companion of Artemis, the eternal virgin," said the boy wearily. "Chase apparently... em..." Chase scratched the back of his neck. Azrael looked at Chase blankly. "Astor's going to come for you," said the false angel lazily.

"Yeah," said Chase, face red as a tomato.

"So," said Azrael curiously, "how was it?"

Chase choked. "You'll have to wait and see," he sputtered.

Azrael quirked an eyebrow. Chase's eyes widened. "You slept with Tonia? _When_?"

Azrael then flushed. "Last summer," mumbled the boy. Joshua was watching this conversation with eyes as wide as saucers, not having previously considered the implications of attractive teenagers with virtually no adult supervision, high stress hormones and little moral inhibition against pre-marital sex at camp, being stuck with each other for three months out of every year.

"How was it? Is she like-," Chase broke off mid-obscene hand gesture when faced with Azrael's fury.

Azrael tackled Chase into the grass. "Oof! Ow! Gerroff me!" protested the grandson of Poseidon.

Azrael held Chase down for a few more minutes, got an apology for the boy's offense against Tonia's honor, and helped him up. Azrael then turned to Joshua. "This is not an excuse to start sleeping with my sister," Azrael stated baldly. Joshua held up his hands in a _'wasn't going to_' gesture. Zoë's brother harrumphed.

* * *

Back in the cabin, things were a little less amiable.

Aegle had stopped crying and was now sitting on the Zeus cabin floor in a state of utter stone.

"I think she's turning blue," murmured Phoebe.

"Oh, hush," said Minerva. "It'll be okay," she told Aegle, impossibly gentle.

"No, it won't. I gave up my whole life- just for a boy-," sobbed Aegle.

Phoebe had had enough. She walked up to Aegle and slapped her flat across the face. Gasping, Aegle looked up with angry and shocked eyes.

"The way I see it, you've gained a lot from not being a Hunter. Including your life," said Phoebe, strong-jawed. "You're not eternally fourteen, which means you get to grow up, have kids and be married if you so wish. If not? You get to see your brother. You get to do whatever you want, instead of being bound to Artemis for all eternity. You can have a life outside of the monsters. And crying does nothing but make everyone else feel bad for no good reason. It _changes_ nothing." Phoebe dragged Aegle off the floor and onto a chair. "Stand up. And also, Chase is pretty crazy about you to risk the wrath of Artemis. And probably a good kisser," blatantly hinted Phoebe. "Now, get cleaned up and do you have something to wear that isn't silver?"

It turned out she didn't. Minerva hunted through _her_ wardrobe until she found a pair of jeans that the daughter of Zeus could wear and Zoë discovered an old punk-rock T-shirt that fit Aegle nicely.

Zoë also undid the girl's hair-knot and let the black curls fall. "And please tell me Chase used protection," added Phoebe.

Aegle nodded, blushing. Minerva sighed in relief.

"Now, what do you do besides shoot arrows?" asked Zoë.

Aegle frowned. "I fight with my brother," she offered.

"What else?" pressed Tonia.

"I... I..." Aegle couldn't think of anything.

Phoebe sighed. "You must have some sort of hobby." She looked around the cabin, half-strewn with silver bedspreads and clothing.

Aegle sighed and admitted, "I don't know. I've always just wanted to be a Hunter."

An awkward pause followed.

Minerva sighed. "Do you want to see my brother?" Aegle shook her head 'no.'

Zoë sighed. "Aegle, you'll have to talk to him sometime. Might as well be now."

Tonia nodded, and ducked her head out the window. "He's at the door, looking conflicted. Invite him in?"

Aegle gave a reluctant nod. The girls filed out. Chase whispered to Zoë, "I think you should go rescue Joshua," causing the girl to sprint towards the archery range.

There she found the most disturbing sight.

A low, territorial growl from deep in her throat caused the sun god to spin around, looking furtively guilty.

"Get the Hades away from my boyfriend," Zoë told the deity boldly.

* * *

Meanwhile, Chase and Aegle were left standing in the middle of the cabin.

"So..." said Chase.

Aegle didn't say anything. The girl only tried to will her eyes into becoming less red, and desperately attempted to look cool and controlled. Taking deep breaths, Aegle tried to think calming thoughts, convince herself that this wasn't awkward at all, and that the Chase's reaction wouldn't bother her at all. She may be a nervous wreck, but she sure as Hades wasn't going to let _him_ know that.

After a long pause, during which Chase stood around with his hands in his pockets and Aegle stared at the ceiling, Chase asked, "Are you mad?"

To Chase's surprise, Aegle replied simply, "No." Her eyes were wide, and the boy liked to believe that he knew she was telling the truth. She seemed convincing enough.

Chase blinked a couple times in confusion. For a moment, he considered saying 'That's good' and leaving, but after moments of internal deliberation, Chase decided that he owed Aegle a proper reply, at the very least. "Uh, that's good. But why not?"

"Because I like you. You're a good guy," she told him. Chase was even more shocked.

"Wait. How do you know that?" he smiled at her cautiously.

Aegle smirked a little and told him as their lips met, "Because you're so _very_ bad at this."

* * *

Phoebe hadn't been this mad in her whole life.

She was pretty sure her face was turning purple. And purple was _not_ her color. "You-you-you-little-," she could not think of any word vile enough to describe him at that moment.

"By all means, continue," said Astor calmly. "I deserve it."

On another day, the answer might have disarmed her. Not today.

"You chose me for your quest! As your _most beloved lover_!" she said, trembling with fury.

"I have been trying to make things clear," he said softly.

"So have I! I want no part of you," she told the boy.

"No, I suppose you don't," said Astor. "But you might want _me_. If I don't screw it up again."

"In your dreams, Bird Brain," she mocked.

"Yes," he told her, smiling kindly. "Most certainly yes."

He kissed the trembling girl's forehead. It was such an innocuous, non-sexual gesture, it shocked her into forgetting to be mad.

"I love you. I always have," he told her.

"I don't believe you," Phoebe told him stiffly, too much in shock to recall a witty comeback. _He's joking_, she thought lethargically.

"Someday you might," the boy said softly. "At least, you can spend the next few decades trying to convince me I'm not." There was blatant hope in those eyes. His snark she could handle, his advances she could withstand.

This impossible kindness would have to be dealt with before it got to her.

Phoebe sighed. She hadn't _asked _for this. She didn't _want _it. But the fledgling hope in Astor's eyes just killed her, it really did. She couldn't even bring herself to insult him. _Well, this is new_, she mused. _I've known Astor for what, ten years? And I never knew Astor thought of me as more than an object or someone he could argue with… hold on, this could just be a trick of his. Argh, so confusing_.

Even if Phoebe couldn't force herself to insult him, maybe she could scare him away.

"I'm a murderer," she found herself telling him. "Winslow tried to rape me against the tree," she jerked her thumb towards the one he was leaning on. "I told him to 'go to Hades.' The ground swallowed him up, of its own volition." Surely that would drive him away. Now that he knew the awful truth.

His face froze in shock. She sighed. "I loved him," she continued, voice detached and far away. "Still might. I dunno. It hurts."

"Well, I didn't dump Chloe," he said suddenly. _Stupid Astor, always trying to one-up me_, Phoebe thought, half glad and half annoyed that he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Well, what was it then?"

"She dumped me because I spent too much time around you. She thought there was someone else I cared about more. She was right. And as for him?" He encompassed the tree. "If your grandfather hadn't stepped in, I would have killed him myself." Astor's expression was completely sober. He meant what he said.

"It's true what I said before. Ciel knows it," Astor said, referring to the eagle he'd had since he was born. They were closer than close, and if the beautiful tawny bird could sense his feelings, Astor knew they had to be real. "And Ciel's part of me. Like you. So just give me a chance, okay? One fair shot. That's all I'm asking, Phoebe," and there he realized it was the first time he had used her real name.

"I can try. Keep in mind, I'm a control freak and a real bitch in the morning. I PMS the Hades out of anyone including Aphrodite children. I'm hell to live with. I'm not good with silence, and I like They Might Be Giants, which you've probably never heard of. I subscribe to the Holy Temple of Bagel Bites-," There she stopped. "What is it?" He was staring at her with the oddest look on his face.

"I like They Might Be Giants," he confessed.

Phoebe blinked. "No shit?"

"No shit."

"What about Bruce Springsteen? Elvis?" she asked.

"I kind of... have every album of Elvis. Ever released," he admitted sheepishly. "Including the Greatest Hits collections."

Her mouth gaped. "You might have something going on there after all," she told him. "See you in the morning." She waved good-bye and walked out of the clearing, leaving the boy with a funny, hopeful feeling in his chest. He just realized it was the first time he'd told anyone the whole truth, and he didn't feel any weaker.

In fact, he felt stronger.

"You were wrong, Dad," he murmured to the sky. "Love doesn't destroy. It makes you stronger. It's worth fighting for, and dying for. But most of all? It's worth living for."

No responding thunder.

Astor reveled in the silence.


	12. Author's Note: Please Read!

A/N from music:

So, um, hey everybody.

First, I have something to say about the last chapter, which judging by the two reviews it's gotten so far, it was met with less enthusiasm and more criticism. Which I actually love. The comments the reviewers gave were articulate, and so true, and made complete sense to me. I don't condone in real life the content of last chapter, but we were just showing what goes on in real life, to some extent. That isn't to say that everyone, or even the majority of teens, do what our characters do, but the events are still very real. So if any of you felt offended by that at all, both SisterGrimm and I are sorry. But at the same time, I can say that it was a reflection of today's society. Also, I'd like to point out that description in my previous two fanfictions has also been pretty graphic (in terms of violence) in nature, and I didn't recieve any protests about that. So I don't know if that is related at all, but from my perspective, that's pretty representative of society's values. Anyway, that was a tangent. I'd just like to reiterate that if you disagreed with the implied sexual content, that I personally agree with you, but that this fiction wasn't meant to promote any of that, or pass judgment on any moral values.

And the second topic is a little harder to say, but I owe it to you all to say it, so here goes. I'm not going to be continuing this fic, for a variety of reasons that I won't go into, but basically I just am not able to devote the time and energy to it that I want to. And all our readers have been so amazing that I feel like it'd be really horrible to let the quality of the story go down. But all of you have been so, so amazing. Really, for this fic and my previous two, your reviews have been so helpful. I've had great fun writing for this site, but I'm probably not going to stay on it much longer. I may post a one-shot in a week or two, which is completely unrelated to any OCs, and really, anything I've written about before. But that's only because I've had the idea for so long I feel as if I should write it down in any case, and get opinions on it. But after posting that, I'll probably not be on fanfiction any longer.

I've also talked to SisterGrimm about this, and she's been so understanding, so I really have to thank her for that. *Thank you!* She said that she may post a chapter or two at some point.

And I really have to thank all the readers and reviewers again. Really, thanks.

So there you have it... yeah.


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